The Beginning of a Problem
by Starbucks3894
Summary: Sequel to the one-shot The Beginning of Forever. Logan and Camille were supposed to be together for as long as they both had a breath left in them. They never dreamed that a problem in the form of a familiar face could ever tear them apart.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all! So here it is! The sequel! One more HUMONGOUS thank you to anyone and everyone who read the prequel. :P Means more than the world to me.**

**Let's get this show on the road...**

Logan sat in Camille's apartment, munching on a bowl of popcorn, watching some reality show on the TV that she was into. He could hear her banging around in her room, muttering under her breath, looking for her phone, as usual. She just hadn't been able to stop herself from losing it lately. Logan had graciously offered to super-glue it to her forehead, to prevent this problem, but, unfortunately, Camille had chosen to take this the wrong way, and had chased him around the pool, wacking him with a particularly solid blow-up floatie. He still had bruises.

Logan laughed to himself, hearing something crash and Camille using some particularly colorful language. He got up from the sofa, and walked down the hall to her room.

You probably wouldn't know it, but Camille was a complete pack-rat. She kept everything. There were beanie babies practically covering her bed, dozens of pillows scattered across her floor, and posters covering every inch of wall space, mostly actors and such. There was barely any room to walk around. Another loud crash, and he walked in from his place in the doorway to peer around the heap of costumes that adorned a left corner. He saw Camille on the floor sitting on her feet, her face flustered, looking really very bewildered. She had a million things in her hands, things she more than likely had cleared away to see what lay beneath. As she dumped them back on the floor unceremoniously, she saw Logan standing there with a smile on his face. She quickly interrupted the words she knew would be coming.

"No, Logan. I do NOT need your help cleaning my room."

Logan shrugged helplessly. "If you're sure."

"Oh, I am," she said, bending back down to search for her phone again.

Logan went over to where she was crouching. Just then, he saw something rather odd. An uncharacteristic lump, that he was sure hadn't been there ten minutes ago.

"Uh, Camille..."

"What?" she said standing up to face him.

Logan was trying quite hard not to dissolve in laughter, as he gestured to her jeans and said, "Back pocket."

Camille felt around, and her face changed from confusion to surprise in one fell swoop. As she pulled out her phone, she looked at Logan, and Logan looked at her. For a second, all was silent. Then they both burst out laughing.

Logan managed to feel slightly exasperated through the laughter. _"Only Camille,"_ he thought.

But then again, would he really love her any other way?

After she had gotten her breath back, she said,"HOW does that happen?" throwing her hands up in a hopeless gesture.

Logan pondered for a moment."Well, I guess you're just a little... maybe you're just... I just think you are..." he hesitated, trying to find the right word. Camille looked at him skeptically.

"If you're gonna say I've lost my mind, YOU WOULD BE..." Camille sighed unhappily. "Completely correct."

Logan looked at her sad face, and did what he always did. Attempt to cheer her up.

"Well, I was really more gonna go with stressed, but if you want it that way..." his smile contradicting the emotion he was SUPPOSED to be putting across.

Camille hit him with one of the many pillows lying around, and they proceeded to have an extreme pillow fight, until a million feathers joined the rest of the "precious" junk on the floor.

They lay down exhausted on her bed, still shaking with whatever laughter they had left in them. Logan turned his head to look at Camille. The setting sun shining on her face made a halo of her silky curls, and her eyes seemed to radiate a kind a pure warmth. She just smiled at him. One of the many wonderful things he was discovering about Camille and himself was they really didn't need to talk. They could pretty much know what the other was saying, without a word. It was a new concept, but certainly not one that he wouldn't be willing to work with. He smiled as he reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

Even though they had been together for about two weeks now, the feeling he got when they were ever this close, the "butterflies" as anyone else would call them, had been slow to go. His heart would beat faster, his hands would shake, and he just wouldn't be able to look away from her. It was like she was this super powerful magnet, and they would get closer, and closer...

Logan's hand started to shake from it's place on Camille's cheek. And then Camille would always take it in hers, and kiss it, and smile. And the feeling would be gone. And then he would lean in...

A loud slam resonated from down the hallway into her room.

Logan sat up quickly, accidentally dragging Camille with him. She sat up with an ungraceful "oof", as the air was knocked out of her. She rubbed her arm which was at an odd angle with his, their fingers still locked together. Logan was glancing alertly toward the door.

"What was that?" he asked apprehensively.

"Probably just the kid down the hall. The one with anger issues? Yeah, his tutor usually comes about this time, and believe me, it is NEVER a quiet affair."

"Oh." Logan said, a little disconcerted. He really hated sudden noises.

"But it's ok now," Camille said anxiously. Logan looked at her, and saw "the look". The look that was slightly disappointed, slightly expectant, the look that said, "Well? Are you gonna kiss me or what?" He was pretty sure he was in love with that look.

He tilted her face upward a bit, and pulled her in for a soft kiss. Logan heard her sigh, felt the simultaneous smiles forming between them. He knew every curve of her lips, loved every movement of her hands combing through his hair. And he knew it would just keep getting better.

He had just transferred his hand from her cheek to the small of her back, and had started to run his tongue over her lips when he heard a smiling voice say, "Well well well. Am I interrupting anything important?"

Logan broke off quickly and turned around to see Jo, standing in the door, dressed in a very short, very shiny black dress, and very high heels. His jaw dropped.

Only after Camille had taken a few deep breaths, still staring at Logan, did she turn her attention towards Jo. A little dazedly, she said, "Jo? Oh! Jo! Why are you...," and finally drifting out of her Logan induced dream, said rather more animatedly, "Omigosh! You look incredible! How did you do your hair?" bouncing up off the bed to go over and examine the elaborate mass of blonde twists and curls piled at the back of Jo's head.

Logan's mouth was still hanging open.

Camille glanced over her shoulder. "Logan, babe, you're drooling on my beanie babies," she said.

He shut his mouth quickly wiping off the imaginary drool. He pouted a little at this discovery, and stared darkly at the two from beneath his eyebrows.

After Jo's hair had gained Camille's approval, she and Jo started talking, mostly girly stuff that Logan had learned to tune out. The chattering got faster and faster, till Logan couldn't catch a single word. So when they finally came up for air, Logan put in his question quickly.

"Where ya goin'?" he asked. He wished Jo would leave; he hated being interrupted.

"To a new club down the street with Kendall," she said, flushed with pleasure.

"Wow." He was a bit taken aback at this. So WERE they dating now? Kendall sure did move fast.

"Well, you two have fun," he said dismissively, waving her good luck. Realizing Camille wasn't rejoining him anytime soon, he started to clear up some of the stuff on the bed. After all, the best time to start organizing was when Camille was distracted. If he was going to be spending any more time in here, he really needed space to walk around.

Camille seemed surprised too about Jo and Kendall. She just didn't express it exactly like Logan did. Logan was more the quiet type, the good-for-you-but-I-really-don't-care-what-you-do-with-your-life kind of person, who's happy for you, but doesn't show it excessively. Camille was more the kind of person who thought "more was more", and didn't hesitate to let it all out. So after about ten minutes of Camille "telling" Jo how happy she was for her, Logan thought his hearing was probably never going to be quite the same.

Gently, he took a girls' shoulder in each hand, and steered them out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He took a deep breath, estimating twenty minutes or so before Camille came back. Twenty minutes to clean.

When he had finished color-coding her beanie babies, Logan had moved on to the giant pile of costumes in the corner. After getting speared in the hand with stiletto heels numerous times, having velcro get stuck in his hair, and getting entangled in what appeared to be glittery purple pantyhose, he decided that this was a task no mortal man could accomplish. He freed himself from the beastly mound, then walked quickly out. He glanced behind him, just one time. But he swore he saw it heave with real live breathing. Logan shuddered.

He walked down the hall, to see Camille giving Jo one last hug before she went to go meet up with Kendall.

"Bye!" Camille called after her as she walked away. "Have fun! Be safe! And remember what we talked about!"

He heard Jo say something indistinct, and then the faint ding of the elevator. Camille laughed and waved, and then shut the door behind her. She plopped down on the couch, and Logan joined her. Now on TV, there were a bunch of leggy girls walking around dressed in what looked like aluminum foil. Logan didn't even want to know.

But it obviously wasn't something Camille wanted to watch either. She flipped it off, and then nestled close to Logan, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He could feel her heart beating, and the rhythmic rise and and fall of her chest as she let out a few soft breaths. He smiled, and proceeded to twirl one of her glossy curls around his finger.

There with Camille, for as long as he wanted, just her and him. There wasn't anything more wonderful.

But it wasn't meant to last, he thought, as he felt his cell-phone vibrate suddenly. Camille started, and glanced down at his hip, from whence came the movement.

"Aren't ya gonna get that?" she asked sleepily, not moving from her current position. Logan sighed.

It was just a text. From Carlos, "hey man where r u? i called you like 8 billion times"

He went to his call history, and sure enough, Carlos had called him. Nine times, to be exact. Logan rolled his eyes.

He texted, "sorry dude. with camille. b there in a few". He glanced down at her, sensing her eyes dwelling on him.

"Who is it?" she asked innocently.

"Carlos. Just wants to know where I've been." He sighed a little unhappily, knowing that since they had to be at the studio at 7 a.m. tomorrow, he should probably be getting home and to bed, so he wasn't a zombie in the morning. He could see the sin dipping below the horizon slowly out of the corner of his eye.

Vibration. That boy could text really fast.

"ahhhhhh haha. well then no rush amigo. just remember tomorrow studio 7"

Logan laughed quietly. "yeah yeah. im comin" he replied quickly.

Carlos was the only one besides Jo who knew about him and Camille. Jo hadn't told Kendall. Logan suspected it was because she wanted Camille and himself to be the ones to do it. It didn't matter to Logan. He would be happy if he could tell the whole world Camille belonged to him. He just really hadn't had the chance, because he rarely saw James and Kendall anymore. Kendall was always with Jo, and James was always spending his time at the pool. No-one knew why. He probably found out that the sun actually gives you a tan... for free! So lately, Logan spent his time with Carlos and Camille. Which was perfectly fine, just not how it used to be.

Logan kissed Camille one last time, and took a moment to breathe her in. Cherry. She always smelled like cherry. Logan loved it.

She glanced up at him rather sadly. "You have to go?"

"Yeah. Got recording tomorrow morning at 7."

"Oh," she sighed. "Well, I guess I'll see ya later then," she said as she picked herself up off of him. He instantly the regretted the lack of her warmth. But he got up and followed her anyway.

He stood in the open doorway, feeling rather sad. "Yeah. I'll come by again tomorrow. We can work on your room some more," he said, trying to make himself feel better that he only had twenty hours left before he could come back over.

On second thought, maybe he would rather NOT work on her room so much.

Camille laughed. "Oh yeah. Definitely. Looking forward to it," she said heartily, reaching out and shaking his hand up and down very hard. He took the opportunity to pull her in and place a kiss on the top of her head. He wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her hard. Even though he knew he would see her tomorrow, he wanted to remember her. The night always seemed like a lifetime to him.

He smiled at her, and walked out of the apartment. She sighed slightly. It was always too quiet without him. Even the door shutting sounded as loud as gunfire.

She threw away the stale popcorn, and then looked out the kitchen window at the darkness enveloping Hollywood. Her mom wouldn't be home for a few more hours. The silence was what killed her. She didn't know how she had done it before Logan came along.

But still, the darkness comforted her. Nightfall. Her favorite time of day.

She walked back into her room, and surveyed the beanie babies arranged neatly over her made bed. She laughed a little. Then, after staring around contemplatively for a few moments, she set about to picking stuff off the floor. And she put it all away. In it's proper place.

Only EVER, for Logan.

**Chapter One, done! Hope it was alright. As usual, review with anything you care to share. Hoping for maybe five of em? Too much? I think NOT!**

**Review, review...**

**~Starbucks**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello all you wonderful people! Chapter two, TADA! Thanks to all those who reviewed Chapter one. Made me alot more confident with this chapter. This one took me FOREVER to write. I'm horrible with adding other characters to the mix. XD**

**And I've come to the realization that I should probably start putting a disclaimer up. Not that there's really any need. Just makes me feel like it's official now. :) So...**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Big Time Rush. ...There. How was that?**

**"**_Well, that couldn't have gone better_," Camille thought.

She was standing in front of her floor length mirror, surveying her handiwork, which had taken the better part of two and a half hours.

She was dressed in a metallic-looking silver tunic top and black leggings, with three-inch heels to match, her hair straightened so that it looked like a shiny waterfall as it cascaded down her back. She thought she looked good.

"_I mean, not that I don't ALWAYS look good_," she thought, giving her hair a flip. She just wasn't accustomed to spending this much time on her appearance.

But it was definitely worth every minute. "Oh yeah. I look GOOD," she said happily, practicing a few smiles. Behind her, she saw the pot of water lilies she always kept on her dresser. She combed her fingers through her hair slowly. But still... she didn't feel quite... done. Frowning a bit, her eyes drifted back to the flowers.

She reached over, took a lily from the pot, and threaded it artistically onto her wrist with a stray piece of white ribbon.

"There. Perfect," she said.

Seeing the lily made her reminisce, thinking of that first wonderful day. The whole feeling, of being loved so much, of knowing she finally had his heart, his unconditional love. It had been... well, let's just say she had transferred her preference of favorite flower from hibiscus to water lily with absolutely no problem whatsoever. She beamed at the memory.

Blowing her reflection a little kiss, and realizing how vain that was but not caring one bit, she grabbed her purse and walked out of her apartment.

She strode down the hall, quivering slightly with the impact of the butterflies slamming against her stomach lining. She could feel that smoothie she had earlier going on a roller-coaster ride. Why was she being like this? This was Logan. He couldn't care less if she had worn a potato sack, with no make-up, and unbrushed hair. She would still look beautiful. And I quote.

She could have laughed at the wonderfulness of it all. All the sheer joy that Logan brought into her life. It made her feel so darn lucky. She wished everyone could feel like this.

She didn't even realize the long walk down the hall had been accomplished until she heard the elevator ding open. She smiled. Just a little bit more, and she would be walking away holding Logan's hand. The thought sped up her steps a bit.

James was leaning nonchalantly up against the wall of the elevator, a slight frown on his face. He was holding one of those blatantly obvious dude fashion magazines in his hands, muttering something about hypo-allergenic man spray.

He didn't look up as Camille stepped in, and said cheerily, "Hey James. Whats up?"

She heard him drop the magazine.

"Uh... duh... um, uh..." he stammered, as he bent down to pick it up, his eyes not leaving her face. He groped around for a bit, then rose even slower, finally coming to a rather slumped position.

His mouth slightly agape, his face was turning a delicate shade of pink. That was weird. She had never seen... was he blushing? No, no it was probably just sunburn. He could never remember to put on sunscreen. Remembering quickly that she actually had his sunblock stick, from when Logan had used it earlier and left it in her apartment, she dug around in her purse. Pulling it out with a satisfied "Ah," she held it out to him.

She was expecting something like "What IS that?" or "LOGAN!" Nothing.

"James..." she said slowly, waving the stick in front of his face. With a jolt, he broke eye contact. He sucked in a big breath, and didn't let it out. Camille looked at him concernedly. What on earth was he doing? Some new kind of breathing exercise to keep his singing voice pretty?

He finally let out a large sigh, and, still not looking at her, started to (nervously?) tap his foot. Alright. Enough.

She let out a shriek and pointed behind him. "LIZARD!" she screamed.

"Where?" James yelled, spinning around desperately, knocking Camille flat against the wall.

"Oof," she protested, as his eyes scanned the wall behind him. Seeing nothing, he turned around to face her.

"Um, where's the lizard?" he said in an injured tone. Camille looked at him calmly.

"It flew away," she said, flapping her hands a little for emphasis.

"What the... are you high?" James sputtered, turning a more vibrant shade of red.

"I don't believe so," she said turning towards the door. They stood there for awhile. She decided to ask him a little question.

"So..." she said, giving her hair another flip. "How do I look?" taking her most dramatic model pose.

James didn't say anything. Just stared at her. Camille felt rather deflated.

"I don't... you don't think I look pretty?" she said, sniffing a little, for dramatic effect. She started to bury her face in her hands to feign crying.

"No!" James said loudly, grabbing her hand. Camille looked down expecting to see a tarantula or something crawling up her arm. Nope, just the water-lily. So... why?

After a slight pause, she became quite aware that James was STILL holding her hand tightly. She looked at him, and then at her hand. But he didn't let go.

"No, no you look fine. You just look kinda..." he released her, and stepped back quite a ways. "_Kinda what?" _she thought. "_I dare you. Just say I look ugly or dumb. You'll be feelin' the pain."_

"Kinda beautiful."

* * *

Well. That was unexpected.

Camille was sure the surprise she was feeling showed quite clearly on her face. But he seemed to decide to not take notice of it, keeping his gaze locked on the stainless steel of the elevator doors.

The only Camille could manage was "oh". Well, what else would YOU say if infinitely gorgeous, fashion conscious, obsessively appearance oriented James called YOU beautiful?

Finally realizing the significance of a pretty boy calling her pretty, she said a little louder, and much more quickly, "For real? Do you think so? I mean I think I kinda overdid it on the makeup and my hair was kinda frizzy today and I didn't have anyone to ask for help because Jo - "

"No," He interrupted her babbling with a firm air. "No. You look absolutely amazing," he said in a rather hoarse voice, smiling broadly at her.

Camille sighed softly. Well, that had done much to restore any of the confidence lost by all the weirdness.

She smiled a little crookedly back at him. "Thank you, James. Really. I'm so crazy nervous right now...", she said running her fingers through her hair.

James seemed distracted for a moment, his eyes a little roving over her frame. But he managed to get out, "Why?" He cleared his throat. "Where are you- uh - where you going?"

"Out with Logan," she said, trying in vain to quiet the butterflies in her tummy. They had been together for it seemed so long now, but this was their first official date.

Obviously James didn't know that.

Because he laughed. Just laughed. After he recovered himself a bit, he said, "Good one. You and Logan. Out together. Tonight." He chuckled to himself a bit more.

"Yeah..." she said slowly. Was he ok? He was acting weird. It wasn't like Logan wouldn't have told him by now. Why should them going out be SO hilarious?

The elevator opened on ground floor, and Camille stepped out into the lobby. She turned around to see James looking at her with an incredulous look on his face.

"You're serious? You and Logan? On a... on a DATE?" he said, with a kind of repulsed awe, as if not realizing the significance of the word until now.

"Yes, James, a date. You know. Boy asks girl, girl says yes, boy and girl go out, TOGETHER?" she said slow and simple. Maybe he was feeling a little Neanderthal-ish today. He just frowned at her, as if he didn't quite understand. Yup. He definitely breathed in too much hairspray this morning.

She heard Logan call her from across the lobby, and turned around to see him in jeans and a collar, smiling at her. She suddenly felt very overdressed. But the feeling went away quite as quickly as it had come. She felt the characteristic magnetic quality he carried with him, as her body bent uncontrollably in his direction. She took a few steps, then remembered James, who was still standing there. She thought a goodbye was in order. To finalize the freaky conversation.

"Well, I'll see ya later James. Stay sane." Was that asking too much? Probably.

She walked away, slipping her hand into Logan's, keeping her eyes straight ahead, not really wanting to look back. She saw Logan out of the corner of her eye give James a halfhearted little wave, than fell into step with her as they headed towards the doors. Halfhearted. That definitely was NOT something the BTR boys encountered very often. Especially between each other. Camille frowned, for what seemed the billionth time that evening.

But more than frowny or upset, Camille was confused. About James. He really hadn't known, had he? But Logan had told him, so why would he act the way he did? Unless, Logan HADN'T told him? No, no he would've. Why wouldn't he have? Camille dismissed Jame's behavior as an unlikely happening. He just forgot, that's all. Pretty big thing to forget about. But then again, this was James, the one who forgot sunscreen in ninety degree weather. It would probably be easy to forget, for him anyway.

Still...

She just couldn't get past that look James had given her. Frowning disbelief. It had heightened when he saw Logan standing there, waiting for her. Almost haunting. Almost like he was hurt.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away. She felt rather warm...

Just then, Logan tightened his hold on her, and squeezed her hand gently. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Logan and Camille. No words required. He knew something was really bothering her, and he probably could sense her mind going 200 miles per hour. It was his way of telling her it would be ok. That he would always be there for her. She smiled at him. "_How lucky am I_?" she thought to herself. Logan smiled back in response, and they walked out of the lobby.

But behind them, James hadn't let go of that frown.

**Yay! Well, that's that! Hope it was alright.  
**

**And now, you know what to do! REVIEW! Even if you didn't like it, let me know how I can improve. It takes one click and five minutes to make my day. C'mon, you know you want to.**

**Really.**

**~Starbucks**


	3. Chapter 3

**Another super short one. I'm kinda trying to stretch the story out, because as it is, it would only be 5 or 6 chapters. Attempting to make it at least 8. So like I said, they're gonna be short. :.( Thanks as usual, to all who reviewed that last chapter. I just have a quick shout-out to one of the people who reviewed chapters 1 and 2.  
**

**OK, I think that's it. Chapter 3 is up!**

James stood there, his mouth still hanging slightly open, as he watched Camille and Logan walk away. Together. He had been so sure she was kidding. Just joking around, fantasizing about what she wished she and Logan had. Well, she very obviously didn't need to fantasize anymore.

Why hadn't anyone TOLD him? I mean, not that it was any of his business. He couldn't care less what Logan did or who he dated. It didn't matter either way to James. Or at least that's the way it had always been.

Now, he wasn't sure.

He walked desolately to the pool and plopped down on one of the lounge chairs. He really didn't know what to think about all of this. About Logan and Camille, about him NOT being told, and especially about why the heck he was reacting like this.

Why, in the name of all things Cuda, should he give a single care about what Logan and Camille did? Why should he care that they were a "couple" now? They could get married, and he still wouldn't care.

Right?

Because he had tried unsuccessfully to tell himself he was just shocked. He had tried to convince his mind that he had just never thought Logan would give in to her pleading. Because EVERYONE knew that Camille liked Logan.

Another thing James was trying to figure out was why it took Logan so long to give to her pleading, or why she would even have had to plead. Why should a girl as sweet and funny and talented and, he was finding it easier to admit, totally beautiful as Camille NOT get whichever guy she wanted? Why should Logan have been made so darn blind? But more importantly, why should Logan get Camille, and not him?

He rubbed his temples tiredly. OK, he was more than sure that last thought had not been his own.

Camille's face popped up in his mind. Her hair loose and flowing, her eyes shining, and a huge wart. Right on her nose.

He remembered that day so well, he was sure if there had been a quiz, he would've gotten an A+. Which was usually quite rare.

He had watched an interview online the other day for the guy they had eventually chosen to play Mednock, you know, the warlock with great abs? The part HE had gone out for? Witches of Rodeo Drive? Yeah. That part. The part that he could have had. Right now. It could have been him in that interview. But it wasn't.

Certainly the part had a lot of pros to it. He would get to be on the big screen, the other big dream in his life, besides being an international pop-star. He would probably be adored by millions of girls, and right now, he would probably be a whole lot richer, with all the designer clothes he could ever dream of. So why wasn't he?

Because the moment Camille had told him she didn't get the part, his giant balloon of confidence and joy had deflated rapidly. He had heard the phone ring and picked it up. He listened to the strange woman say "congratulations, you got the part, blah blah blah Mednock blah blah great abs." But he had kinda gotten this really weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. The little voices in his head were having an all-out war. He knew he wanted the part. He knew all he had to say was one tiny three letter word. But when he looked at Camille, and thought of how crushed she'd be to know looks did trump dedication in show-biz, he realized the part really wouldn't be any fun without his acting coach there to support him. The war was won. And he still couldn't believe he actually said no.

She had looked confidently at him again, assuring him it was normal to not get the part your first time round. He wondered how rare it would have been if he actually had agreed to it his first time round. But he knew, no matter how ignorant she had been, or no matter how she'd never know of his act of selflessness, it had all been worth it.

All for one smile. Psh. What was wrong with him?

Of course, James may still have not believed his turn down of the role of his dreams, but that didn't mean he regretted it. In fact, he couldn't have been more happy with his decision.

He had genuinely made her happy in that moment. And that was worth any amount of time on the silver screen.

And he knew then why he gave it up. He gave it up for Camille.

Why would he even DO that? For someone he barely knew, and hadn't even cared about before now.

Which meant that he knew he did care about her now. Urp. No, he really didn't know anything anymore.

So as he sat there by the pool, he tried to identify the feeling that was making him burn with anger, and feel quite hopeless, at the same time, the image of Camille and Logan's hands intertwined so infuriatingly. For a moment, he imagined him walking away with Camille, holding her hand. Oh yeah. This was definitely not shock.

Because, shock was when you lost your lucky comb, and then found out in the week it was missing, that Katie had used it as a teething toy when you accidentally left it after you spent the night. Shock was when you find out that jello is really ground up horses hooves. Shock was finding out that you're not as good of a singer as you thought, being crushed along with your dreams by Satan in buckeye sunglasses, and then being picked up again not a day later.

That was shock. This was definitely worse that having slobbery hair, horses hooves in your tummy, or a severe mental breakdown.

The only other time in his memory he had had this exact feeling, was back in third grade when he saw Carlos give a peck on the cheek to the girl James had a crush on at the time.

He had been jealous then. But that would mean...

He was jealous of Camille? For what? Being a better actor that him? No. Definitely not. Or maybe... he was jealous of Logan? No... It wasn't just Logan. He had never felt that before just looking at Logan alone. It was when he saw Logan and Camille. Together. Well, that would either mean he was gay for Logan, really had been breathing in too much hairspray, or he was totally, completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with Camille.

Those words had a nice ring to them. "In love with Camille...", he said out loud, by accident. But what he didn't know was that Jo had been waving and saying "Hi James! James! HI!" for the past twelve minutes, taking minor breaks to whip out her cell-phone and reply to a text. At this out loud thought though, Jo stopped her waving, and pondered what she thought he just said.

Ponder, ponder, ponder, ponder. Major confusion.

She stood there for a moment, getting her thoughts in order, before she finally walked over to him and whacked him on the shoulder.

"OW!" His hand flew instinctively up to his hair to make sure it wasn't messed up. Finding nothing out of place, he looked up at Jo, and said, rather annoyed, "Oh. Hi. I don't know where Kendall is, if he's not with you." He had learned to parrot these words whenever he met up with the blonde because it prevented her from going on a thirty-minute long gush-fest on how amazing Kendall was. He knew Kendall was a great guy, but he really hadn't needed or wanted to know his best friend was a great kisser.

"No." Jo said. "That's not what I wanted to know." It actually had been, but she had forgotten all about it after she had heard what he said.

"Who's in love with Camille?" she asked curiously. "Logan? Well, we ALL knew that." She laughed lightly, throwing her French braid over her shoulder.

James just stared at her, feeling a sudden urge to throw her in the pool, French braid and all. He felt like he was going to explode any minute he was so mad. At Jo, for telling him so lightly. At Kendall, for not having the decency to tell him in the first place. At Logan, for taking away any chance he had with Camille.

OK, that thought... had been all him. So...

WHAT?

**Reading it and rereading it I realize just how short it is. Oh well. Can't be helped right now. Another reason why there may not be updates every week is because I 'm having ENORMOUS writers block trying to write the next chapter. I'll keep trying though. :) For all the wonderful people out there.**

**Till chapter 4.**

**~Starbucks**


	4. Chapter 4

**OK, so this one is a bit longer. Over two thousand words. But that may just be because of dialogue... Oh well. Thank you for reviews. I love you all!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush.**

A chance. Somehow, those words brought to mind a head full of dark, glossy curls, a radiant smile, a contagious laugh. James smelled something he thought could be cherry. He shook his head again to clear away these thoughts, these images that screamed of Camille. She had looked so... breathtaking. He didn't think he had ever seen anything so beautiful.

He was called back to reality by Jo's huge eyes looking up at him. She didn't even blink. James had always found that rather creepy. Thinking about Jo, made him think about Kendall which made him remember no-one had told him about Logan and Camille. The anger returned. He supposed it must have shown a bit.

Jo blinked innocently at him. "Wait..." she said in that slow manner that had ALWAYS annoyed him. "So, you didn't know? I thought they would have told you the first." A small frown wrinkled the perfect skin between the perfect eyes on her perfect face. Too perfect for James. I guess that's why it really hadn't bothered him that Kendall started seeing Jo. She reminded him too much of the girls back in Minnesota. All sweet as sugar. Trying to act different, tough even, and failing miserably. Sweet girl. Just not the kinda girl he knew he wanted.

And... cherry again.

Ugh. Life sucks when it's confusing.

So, calmly, and to get away from Jo, he told her he had seen Kendall walking down by the new taco stand. He really hadn't seen Kendall since they split up after harmonies this afternoon. But she didn't need to know that. He just needed to get away.

So ignorant little Jo skipped happily away to be with her Prince Kendall and live happily ever after. Just the thought of two people together and happy made James feel like he could throw up. He got up slowly from his lounge chair and went back to the apartment.

As he walked in the door, he saw Carlos watching TV with a strangely eager expression on his face. James walked over behind the couch to saw what had his obviously undivided attention, seeing as he hadn't even noticed James come in.

He was watching Wipe Out. Yeah. Typical Carlos.

So James did the most predictable thing, which he knew shouldn't even affect Carlos anymore, but seemed to get him every time.

"AH!" James screamed at him, jumping in front of the TV. Carlos was so startled he jumped off the couch backwards, which shouldn't even be humanly possible. Seeing finally who had instigated this heart attack, Carlos glared at James, the usual expression of shock and a bit of embarrassment on his face.

"James..." he whined, stomping his feet. "You ALWAYS do that to me." He folded his arms and frowned grumpily at him.

James laughed. "I know," he said contentedly, walking into the kitchen, hearing his stomach throw a few more swear words out.

Carlos followed. "So, where ya been?" he asked, seating himself on the counter, and peering around James into the fridge.

The question reminded James why he had been so bummed walking in. Carlos' reaction had made him temporarily forget. But it all came flooding back.

"Just at the pool," he mumbled almost incoherently. Carlos gave him a strange look, then shrugged and pushed him out of the way.

"Whatever." He rummaged around a bit. "You know, I think you're turning into a brooding loner," he said pulling out the bread, peanut butter, and pickles. He looked at James, who had a frown on his face, looking very deep in thought.

"Yup. Definitely a brooder," he said, assembling his sandwich.

James sighed, and looked at the disgusting pile of "food" Carlos was preparing to shove into his face.

"What do I care? Brooding loners are 42% or something in demand, according to Cosmopolin." James moved some things around in the cupboard, finally pulling out a granola bar.

Carlos was much too busy gazing at his peanut-buttery, pickle filled masterpiece to listen to what James was saying. He picked it up, stuffed it into his mouth, and judging from the look of slight pain on his face, swallowed it whole.

"Ah..." he said, smacking his lips together, rubbing his tummy thoughtfully. "I'm still hungry..."

"What else is new?" James mumbled under his breath, as he watched Carlos pull out a bag of Doritos, knowing he would probably have it finished in a half hour or so.

"So, Gustavo said that we got a TON of ratings on our last video we put up, and-" Carlos stopped abruptly, seeing that James wasn't paying him a bit of attention. He just leaned against the counter, a dark expression on his face, his attention focused elsewhere.

"James? Are... uh... you alright?" Carlos asked peering up into his face. "You look... weird..." Carlos poked Jame's arm, as if to make sure he wasn't off his rocker.

"Yes, yes I'm fine," as he shrugged Carlos off. "Just thinking."

Carlos looked veritably shocked.

"You? THINKING?" Carlos slapped his hands over his mouth in mockery, his eyes wide with fake surprise. But James really wasn't in the mood for games.

"Just shut-up man," he said quietly, glaring at Carlos. He knew he shouldn't have reacted like that, but he just couldn't help it. He was really feeling bummed right now. And he knew joking around would only make him feel worse.

After a moment, James looked up at Carlos, expecting to see an expression of hurt on his face.

But Carlos looked kind of concerned. He walked over to James, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, man. Whats wrong?" he asked, looking at James, trying to read the expression in his hazel eyes.

"Nothing, I'm just..." James sighed and walked around the counter so he was facing Carlos. "I'm just..."

He quickly remembered that Carlos had known too! And HE hadn't even told him! He glared angrily at him.

"Why didn't you tell me about Logan and Camille?" he said suddenly, realizing how strange the accusation sounded.

"About Logan and Camille, what?"

"Together! Like dating!"

Carlos looked a little surprised. "Well, I thought Logan would've told you." He paused. "Didn't he?"

James snorted. "No," he said scornfully. "Why, I will never know... I mean I thought we were friends and everything and we tell each other stuff like this, but maybe not..." James said running a hand through his hair.

Carlos looked at a loss for a moment, but recovered himself quickly. "Well, I'm sure it's nothing personal. He just didn't get around to it, that's all." That was Carlos for you. Even though he had never been the strongest, he had always been the most reckless, and had never hesitated to defend Logan from any foe. Him and Logan had been friends before any of them. Since the diaper days.

James just stared at him. "How can you freaking say that? Why wouldn't he have told me that he was dating CAMILLE? Of all people..." he turned away.

"Why would you care who he dates? I mean, it's just Camille. She's liked Logan for ages. I think it's great he finally likes her back." Carlos was still obstinate. He wasn't gonna back down from Logan's defense.

"So you're taking his side?" James asked, drawing himself up to his full height.

Carlos spluttered. "Side? There are sides? James! It's Camille! Why would you EVER care?" He was really confused. James didn't want to tell him what he was sure he was feeling. Saying it out loud would finalize it.

"I wouldn't..." James said quietly. "Except..." he trailed off. He was going to put this off as long as he could.

"Except... what?"

"Except..." He took a deep breath.

"Why should Logan get Camille?" The words spilled out in a quick jolt. "I mean, if it took him so long to realize how great she is, then he doesn't deserve her, right?" James was desperate. He felt like he was gasping for air. But he was really gasping for a reason. A reason why he loved Camille.

Carlos didn't say anything. He just looked at James.

"Well, who WOULD deserve her then?" He said it slowly. He had known exactly what James meant. And he knew the answer James would give.

But James' eyes were glued on the floor, and he wasn't saying anything.

"Do you think... you, deserve her James?"

James finally looked at him. Carlos was a crazy, reckless loon, but he was understanding and loyal, and James knew he would never judge him.

So, the words came out in a rapid flood, the only way James knew how.

"I don't know if I deserve her. But I know I've never wanted anyone so bad in my life. I know that I love her, and whenever I see her and Logan together, I feel like I'm dying." He felt like he was spilling out his whole being, and when he had finished, he felt like he could cry.

Carlos walked over to him. "You actually... love her?" He looked at James straight on. "Love is a strong word. Are you sure you actually feel that strongly?"

James was mad. Why couldn't Carlos just help him? Why all the questions?

"Look, I don't know what EXACTLY what love feels like. But I know, whenever she walks by, I feel so... weak. And I just can't stop thinking about her since that day, the day I was supposed to start my acting career. And I know I feel like killing Logan when I see him kiss her, or hold her hand. And..." he slowed down. "I wish it was me. Holding her hand. Holding her."

Admitting it was hard. Logan was his friend. And he wasn't particularly fond of the feeling of murderous hate that overcame him whenever he even looked at Logan now. But he knew that only way to either kill or foster these feelings was to tell someone.

Carlos had been looking at him. Now he spoke. "So," he said.

So? Was that it?

"So what?" James was beginning to get frustrated again.

"So, you have three options. You can kill these feelings, gradually, by maybe getting a girlfriend of your own, or finding a hobby. You can ignore these feelings, and I'm sure they'll fade. Or... you can go after Camille. And maybe permanently break her heart. And Logan's."

Those didn't sound like choices at all. He knew he couldn't forget her, whether he had a girlfriend or not, so the first two options were out. And he was kinda hoping Carlos would've put that last one in a more appealing format. He didn't want to break Camille. Or Logan. He sighed again.

"I think... I should tell her? Maybe let her know that I like-"

"Love."

"OK LOVE her." James searched Carlos' face for answers. "Should I?"

Looking at Carlos just then, it struck him how strange it was he was telling HIM about all this. He had always told Kendall. But Hollywood had changed everything.

Carlos tapped his finger on the counter. "I don't know... Because I think you forgot one very important aspect."

"What?"

"Camille may not like you back. Not the way she likes Logan."

James deflated. She may NOT like him back. He had forgotten that this was Camille. Not just another Minnesota girl. He began to panic.

"She loves Logan. I think that much is obvious. Are you sure you're ready to get between something like that?" Carlos asked. James seemed not to hear him.

"If she doesn't like me, I don't know what I'll do..." He looked around the kitchen frantically, as if the answer would be written on the tile back splash.

He looked at Carlos. "Tell me what to do!" He had probably looked so desperate, he expected Carlos to laugh at him.

But Carlos just shrugged. "I can't. This is all you James. You have to decide," he said, laying his hand again on his shoulder.

James looked at the floor again. "I don't think I can..."

"You don't have to decide right now. You got time, dude. You need to think about this."

James looked at him. Since when did Carlos get such a level head on his shoulders?

"OK." James took a deep breath. "I need to think."

"Yeah. Just take a few days. No rush. She isn't going anywhere." Carlos gave James a small smile.

James smiled back. He walked away, intent on his bedroom, his iPod, and his thoughts.

Carlos opened the bag of Doritos. James turned back around.

"Hey Carlos," he said.

"Hm?"

James paused. "Thanks."

Carlos looked at him, with an expression that was not common on his face. Sympathy and understanding.

"No problem, bro." Carlos watched James walk down the hall.

He was drawn back to reality by a particularly loud smack coming from the TV. He poured the chips into a bowl quickly, and ran back into the living room, vaulting over the couch. Instead of landing on the soft cushions, he landed on the floor.

"I meant to do that," he mumbled to himself. Still, he rubbed his bottom as he seated himself carefully down in the middle.

"_Time to get back to being Carlos_." He shoved a handful of Doritos in his face as he heard James shut the bedroom door behind him.

**There we go! It seems a bit short to be over two thousand, but oh well! And just to note, I won't be putting up another chapter for a few weeks or so, unless I get a sudden burst of inspiration. :P As always, review! I need your feedback! Please please please! REVIEW!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Starbucks**


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh Chapter 5. You took so long to write. I'm not entirely overjoyed about how this came out, but hopefully it isn't too horrible. XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own BTR.**

She lay on the huge window seat in her living room, trying to sort through memories and feelings of the past few days. Camille just didn't know what to think. She wished the answers would be written on the sun, as she watched it come slowly over the horizon.

She hadn't slept a wink all night. She had way too much on her mind to even shut her eyes.

Her and Logan's first date had been everything Camille knew she had always dreamed of. It was sweet and thoughtful and fun and romantic, and closed with the most perfect kiss. But unfortunately, it would have been a lot better if she could have just gotten James out of her head.

It wasn't so much as thinking about HIM, as thinking of why he hadn't known. About them. Her and Logan.

She had tried to tell herself to forget about it. If James hadn't known before, he did now right? So what was the problem? That Logan hadn't told him. That's what seemed to bother her more than anything else. In fact, all her thoughts seemed to come back to this mournful dilemma.

Why was it a dilemma though? Questions like these had kept Camille's mind pacing all night, not able to stay still. She had come out to the living room, hoping that it was just her lumpy bed that was keeping her awake. But the couch, and now the window seat, hadn't been any more comfortable.

She sighed, and looked out the window again. She could see the street below beginning to rustle with the life of early morning. Businessmen and construction workers alike were beginning to flood the streets, mingling with the occasional group of drunk late-night club goers. She watched them weave in and out, the girls tottering on five inch heels, using the walls of buildings for support. Camille nearly laughed at the sight of them. Most people wouldn't. But Camille knew that it was their own fault. They didn't have to go out and party till all hours of the morning. You always have a choice. Camille stopped, and a thoughtful expression passed over her face fleetingly.

"Always have a choice," she said quietly, thinking out loud.

The sound of her voice in the undisturbed quiet of her sleeping apartment almost startled her. She knew it was unlikely, but she hoped she hadn't woken anybody. Well, there was only one person she could wake up.

She walked down the hall to check up on her mom, who had come home at midnight last night, thoroughly exhausted and dead on her feet. Camille peered through the small crack in her doorway, and saw the familiar tangle of curls so alike to her own tumbling over the pillow. Her back was turned to her, but she could see the comforter rise and fall with the steady breathing accompanying deep sleep. Camille, not wanting to wake her, shut the door quietly, and walked to her own bedroom.

It was still neat from the time she had straightened everything up. It felt really unfamiliar, but Camille knew it saved her the trouble of hunting for lost articles of clothing, or anything else lost in the mess, and it saved her mom the trouble of grappling with her to always clean it up. As she walked over to her chest of drawers and pulled out a faded screen tee and a pair of old worn-out jeans, she looked up at her reflection in the mirror. She looked really, really tired. The bags under her eyes were so apparent, she knew Logan would notice them. She was hoping to avoid any questions, and ease him into all the things they needed to talk about.

"_Eh, nothing makeup can't fix_," she thought, as she opened up her makeup case and pulled out a tube of concealer. She walked into the bathroom and pulled off her clothes from the previous day. She had forgotten to change into pj's the night before.

The hot water felt good on her skin. It seemed to wash away all her worries, and leave her fresh and ready for action, come what may. She worked the cherry smelling shampoo through her hair, and felt it run down her back as it rinsed off. She didn't think. She just went through her usual routine. Finishing her shower, getting dressed, and combing her hair, using the blow-dryer, and doing her makeup. Walking to the kitchen and grabbing a Nutri-Grain bar and a refrigerated coffee drink. She hated hot coffee.

She ate on her way down to the lobby, and disposed of the trash before she walked out and down the street. She knew where she was going. She always did. It varied sometimes, but it usually was somewhere she could sort through her thoughts, clear up all the muddling ones clouding her judgment, and put the important ones that needed answers front and center. She was vaguely grateful for the hoodie blocking the chilly breeze at her back. But she didn't linger on any one particular thought. Not today. She was conscious only of the rhythmic pounding of her sneakers on the pavement, as she crossed street after street, and walked block after block.

She looked up a few minutes later, hearing the most familiar, comforting sound she knew. Her feet had taken her to a small cove by the beach, one of her haunts since the first day she had came to L.A. She walked to the small cliff that jutted out and dropped a ways before ending in a large dune of white sand. The sun reflected off her view of the ocean, and she smiled. It looked like one huge plane of glass. A living breathing thing. She let the sound of the waves, the constant drumming sound they made against the cliffs to her left, wash over her. She felt totally calm. In control. Here she could stay undiscovered. And think.

What did she need to ask Logan? Oh, she needed to ask him about James. About why he hadn't told him about them. Not a big deal to him probably, but it was something Camille needed answered. She needed to ask James about why he reacted the way he did finding out from her. It wasn't like James could care less anyway. She was still slightly freaked out by their last conversation. Yeah, she needed to ask that.

Amazing what spots like this could do for her brain. Away from all the hustle and bustle and noise of the city, she realized how little she had to think about. How much she had been overreacting. She found there were no more oppressing thoughts weighing down her mind, no more confusion. Only questions. She got up and quickly realized how long she had been there. Felt like five minutes. But she had been gone almost two hours. The sun was getting close to the nine o'clock mark. She glanced around and saw the first morning surfers jumping on their boards and paddling out into the water.

She made sure of her footing, and darted out of her hiding place, jogging up the hill to the road. She walked quickly home, not caring how many people she bumped into, or many swear words got thrown her way. She knew what she had to do. She had a plan. And boy, did it ever feel good.

She made it to the lobby, slightly out of breath, having run the last few blocks. Mr. Bitters glared at her from behind the counter.

"Move along," he said grumpily. He hadn't been there when she went out. which meant he slept in a little longer than he was supposed to. Well, no-one ever said he was the best Palm Woods employee. Probably the worst, actually.

Camille smiled brightly at him, and gave a full fledged, two arm wave. "GOOD morning, Mr. Bitters! Gorgeous out today, isn't it?"

He just frowned, and disappeared behind his newspaper. Camille chuckled a bit to herself, as she walked into the elevator. It was empty. Thank goodness.

She pressed the two confidently, and felt the familiar sensation of her stomach dropping to her knees as she went up and up. It opened with a faint ding, and she escaped the tacky elevator music hurriedly. She set her sights on an apartment down the hall, the one she knew was marked with a bright copper 2J, and walked toward it determinedly.

It took slightly longer than she anticipated, and realized she had been actually slowing down as she neared the door. She picked up the pace, and even skipped a little to keep her courage up.

Finally reaching the door, she reached out a hand, and knocked.

And, nothing.

So, she knocked again.

Again, nothing.

Getting impatient, and feeling her confidence ebb away, she opened the door herself. Softly, she stepped inside.

It wasn't weird. Logan walked into her apartment all the time. And he didn't even knock. She knew no-one would mind.

She walked cautiously anyway.

She didn't know what to expect. She hadn't been in Logan's apartment terribly often, and it felt strange to be on her own. She tiptoed, certain everyone was asleep, even though Logan usually got up early on Saturday. She had always wondered why. He often said sleeping excessively was a waste of time. "Burning daylight" he called it. Just a quirk. She loved him anyway.

But even as these thoughts entered her mind, she realized more than anything what she hadn't been expecting.

James, coming around the corner. Shirtless.

Camille felt incredibly stupid standing there, gawking. She couldn't help it. She had seen glimpses of the abs before, when he seemed convinced they were his ticket to a successful acting career. But never like this. Not the full in your face, unavoidable, perfect upper body of James. His arms fit perfectly against his abdomen, and he didn't look awkward about his body like Logan so often did. He looked like a freaking god. Perfect. Absolutely, undeniably perfect.

So she stood there waiting for him to see her and her dazed expression, looking like an idiot. But he seemed to have not noticed her yet. He was holding a white shirt in his hands, and looked around the room, muttering to himself. His eyes swept over the floor quickly, then stopped. He obviously saw her shoes, because his eyes trailed all the way up her jeans and tee and fixed themselves on her face.

His eyes had the same tired bags underneath them that she had so aptly covered. He didn't look like he was getting such great sleep either. He was in a pair of stone-wash Levi's, and his hair was slightly rumpled. He had clearly just woken up.

He looked at her for a moment, before turning back around and walking away.

Camille was really weirded out now. She had gotten over the initial shock of him shirtless, and now merely stared after his back. She saw him go into what she knew, from Logan, was the bathroom. She heard the water running. She decided to chance it.

She followed him and walked into the bathroom. She had been praying it wasn't the shower that the running water sound was coming from, because while looking at his upper body was... pleasant, she had NO desire to see any more.

It was the sink. She almost breathed out in relief. He was splashing his face with water so cold, his hands were soon raw and blotchy, red and blue. He just kept splashing his face, over and over and over. He was going to drown if he didn't stop soon. Camille took the initiative, and reached past him to turn the water off. She grabbed a towel and held it out to him.

He was still bent over the sink. He straightened out slowly, then saw Camille and froze. She placed the towel in his open hands, still poised to splash more water on his face. Then she studied his expression.

He was shocked. Why? She had no idea.

"Man, I really need some more sleep," he said, as he shook out the towel and dried his face. His voice was remarkably deep. It seemed to rumble all the way from his feet, getting lower as it ascended. It sent shivers up Camille's spine. He coughed, and ran a hand through his hair, straightening up all the way. Then he just stared.

"Um... good morning," Camille ventured. Had he finally lost it? This really was not normal.

He looked at her for a long time. Camille just stood there stock still, and waited for his eyes to clear up.

"Oh!" He suddenly realized he obviously wasn't still asleep. Then, he blushed. He was so cute sometimes.

OK. Hold up! HOLD. UP. Cute? Really? Now she was sure SHE was the one who needed more sleep.

"Erm..." was all he said before he brushed past her into the living room, trying to hide the redness in his cheeks by slipping his shirt over his head.

Camille followed. They both stopped in the living room. And said nothing. She knew she wanted to ask for Logan, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. It looked like he wanted to say something but he was astonishingly quiet. Finally, he spoke.

"Erm, good morning," he mumbled, as he rubbed the back of his neck self consciously, realizing she had actually seen him in all his shirtless glory. Clearly he wasn't used to being displayed that way. Aw, poor little puppy-dog James. Poor little shy baby. Camille almost burst from pent up laughter.

"Hi." Camille almost stifled a giggle. But not quite.

James looked at her, saw her trying to hold back the peals threatening to break free. He smiled and laughed with her. She didn't know how long they stood there, laughing at nothing. But she felt a strange sense of dejavu, as she looked into James' face, so rarely broken into that honest smile.

She should have felt awkward. But she didn't. It felt more right than anything.

"James," she managed to choke out through the remaining laughter.

He stopped and looked at her, wiping his eyes a bit. "Yeah?"

Camille's last chuckle mingled with the question. "Do you know if Logan's around?"

James' expression darkened instantly. The effect was almost shocking. How had he gone from honestly, purely happy, to this, in only a moment?

"Yeah. I guess I knew you'd ask that." He didn't say it a mocking or joking way, like she would have expected him to. He was angry. And it showed.

Camille felt strange. The walls felt like they were caving in. Her breath came in quicker, more shallow breaths, and she didn't know why. What the heck was happening?

"Logan," James scoffed. "Always Logan." He turned away and picked up a bauble off of one of the built in shelves, turning it over in his hands. He was deliberately avoiding looking at her. She was starting to become... apprehensive.

"Yes." She meant to sound confident, like she had felt not five minutes ago. She tried to fill herself up with the image of the sun dancing on the waves, calming her, telling her what to do, what to say. But her voice came out small and timid, and all she could feel was claustrophobic.

"Well, he's not awake, yet. But by all means! Wake him. I really couldn't care less." He mumbled the last sentence, but she still heard.

Anger flared up inside her. How selfish could you get? Couldn't care less? About his friend, and her boyfriend. Was he ALWAYS this arrogant?

"Oh. You don't CARE, huh?" she got a whole lot more mad than she was expecting. But she hoped her anger showed in her eyes as she looked at him, hoped she could burn a hole through his ego balloon and send it spiraling down. But he turned around and stared right back, as much and maybe more anger filling his face.

"Yeah. Really don't care what happens to the weakling. He can go jump off a cliff for all I care." James looked like he was enjoying every word. This made Camille's large flame of anger turn into a full-out forest fire.

"Weakling?" She was yelling now. She couldn't help it. Logan may not have been as sculpted as James, but he wasn't a weakling. She found all the questions in her head were gone. Put out quickly before the heat of argument.

James expression was unbearable. Smug.

"You heard me. The nerdy weak one, who only gets friends because they feel sorry for him."

Camille's fist flew out, aiming for his perfect, artificial looking nose. He caught it with lightening speed, and held it there suspended above his right shoulder.

She had no idea his reflexes were that quick. Quicker than most she'd ever seen. She also had no idea she had such horrible aim.

She looked shocked at her fist, then at his face, still a vat of boiling rage. She wrenched her hand free, and trembling, walked toward the door.

"So you're just backing out?" he taunted her. "Not gonna finish me off?" James tone was mocking and he was clearly amused. Camille couldn't stand it. She whirled around.

"You know what? I don't know how Logan ever agreed to be your friend. I don't know how he could have thought you were a good person. You are selfish. And rude. And arrogant!"

James began to say something in a rather loud tone. Camille cut him off with an even louder shout.

"And the band, and ALL of Hollywood, and the WHOLE WORLD would be better off without you!"

James stopped so abruptly Camille thought she felt airbags constricting her chest. She let out a few heavy breaths.

His face was such an odd mixture of emotions, she thought under any other circumstances she would've laughed. The last traces of anger remained on his face, along with a new expression of pain. Soon all died away. He looked only defeated. And in so much agony, he looked like he wanted to scream. Camille had a sudden strong urge to wrap her arms around him and tell him how sorry she was for going too far. She hadn't meant to say that. She really hadn't. She took a step towards him. He jumped as if he had been shocked.

"Don't!" He looked at her with wild desperation. His depressed look returned as he looked at her.

Why did she have to ruin everything? She would've given anything in the world to just take it all back. Wished she hadn't asked for Logan. Wished he didn't exist. She surprised herself with that. But she didn't hold onto that feeling for very long.

"Just... go," he said turning away.

"James..." Camille ventured a step closer.

"Just stop! Stop pretending that it matters! Stop being here with me, when we both know you'd rather be with him!" he cried desperately.

Camille stopped walking. What on earth...?

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you and Logan." He spit out the latter name, like poison on his tongue. His expression grew dark again.

"What do you have against Logan? He's supposed to be your friend!" Camille was so thoroughly confused, she thought no number of years by the sea could ever sort her out.

"Friend? Friends don't do this to each other, Camille! Friends don't take away your whole world then GLOAT by not telling you about it!" James was yelling again.

"What could Logan possibly take from you that you haven't already taken from him first? What could you possibly lose to him?"

"He took everything! Any chance I had! Anything I would've ever needed! Everything that I ever wanted! All of it!" James turned around and kicked the wall. A huge hole was the inevitable result.

"James, I swear..."

He turned around and glared at her. That did it.

"What the HECK is your problem?" She got up in his face, so close that they could have been touching, except she wouldn't have noticed. She was so mad, you could've shot her and she probably would have gone on yelling.

James looked down. His dark expression had gone as quickly as it came. Now, there was pain. And a kind of desperate longing she had never seen in him.

"My problem?" He reached down and brushed away a curl that had come loose from her ponytail, like Logan had done so many times before. "My problem, is that you're perfect. My problem is that he's so much better for you than me. My problem is I will NEVER be good enough." His eyes saddened considerably more.

"But more than all that..."

Camille's breath hitched in her throat.

"My problem is that have fallen."

Their eyes were locked, and she felt like her feet were glued to the floor. She wanted to run. "_This isn't right!_" she told herself. But she couldn't move. Couldn't look away from those hazel eyes. She felt that mixture of wrong and right. Logan. She forced herself to think of Logan. But somehow, his image kept slipping away. James was all she saw. All around her. Dizzying. Intoxicating.

"Fallen completely..."

Camille fought to hold on to Logan. His image, his essence. Stored so preciously in her soul. Slipping away so meaninglessly like sand in the wind.

"Madly... in love."

Their noses almost touched now. She could feel his heart beat rapidly, and his breath against her lips.

"With you."

He closed that too small gap between them.

He kissed her.

**HA! I know. Don't you just ADORE drama? :) This was so darn fun to write. And I think it's the longest chapter so far. :D Maybe because of dialogue. But I don't care! I'm still proud!**

**I would like to offer my unending and undying thanks to one of my lovely readers/reviewers, one man writing games. She helped me out so freaking much with ideas when I was stricken with a horrible case of writers block, that honestly, this chapter is up as quickly as it is because of her. It wouldn't have been up till the end of the week if I hadn't had a bout of genius shared with me. :) THANK YOU!**

**Still regretting not being able to write it better. I'll probably revise it when I get more ideas on improvement.  
**

**As usual, review with anything and everything! Advice, ideas, positive or negative! I take it all! And enjoy every single word. :) Negative or not. Just the fact that you took the time to review makes you awesome. **

**~Starbucks  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 is UP! Really, it's the best I could do. I'm not as good with writing as I thought. XD**

**But read please, and I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own BTR.**

He would never had thought Camille was fragile. She wasn't like a butterfly, or a bird, or anything delicate. She was flashy and showy, like a peacock, and she was definitely NOT breakable. But as James stood there, he tried his hardest not to scare her away. He knew how precarious his situation was. Camille wouldn't go for this for long.

But he still held her. Even though she had stiffened on impact. Like floating on the water, but not diving under. He guessed this was about as close as they would ever get. So he didn't try and go deeper, and possibly awaken her conscience to the fact she really SHOULDN'T be doing this. Of course, this didn't bother James at all. Maybe it should've. But it really didn't matter right this minute anyway. He did what he thought he had to not to explode from the seclusion of it all. And he didn't regret it one bit.

It was still weird. He wasn't used to not getting super close to the girl in question, not kissing back with everything he had. He was used to all girls pretty much being smitten with him. So they automatically would just start drooling. Or giggling and acting like complete idiots. Usually the latter. But he had never come across a situation where he thought the girl would be the one to break it off.

He could rightfully say, he had now.

Something kept pulling at the back of his mind. Some sense of apprehension. Like he had reason to have someone else to answer to.

Oh. Logan. James euphoria bubble deflated a little bit. His face popped up in his head with the usual quirky grin plastered across his face. James barely stayed a jolt. He knew he was hurting him. He knew he should stop. But just that one tiny thought had been enough to send a sharp pain up his back. No. He couldn't just let this all go. He had to make it last just a little longer.

It Camille had telekinesis, she had never told him. So he had no idea what else it could have been that she sensed that exact thought, as she broke away, and backed up about a mile.

They must have looked pretty darn hysterical as they stood there, at opposite ends of the room, motionless, both having a look of incredulity gracing their features.

"_Well. Now I've seen everything._" A speechless Camille; a most definite first. Rather than laughing at his own joke, which you know, he did do a lot, he felt a little guilty. What had he done? Was it all so bad, him kissing her? Why was there so much pain?

"Camille..." he ventured, stepping a bit closer. She backed up even farther. She was trying to get away. From him. Now he felt really guilty. He had thought she would've been happy, like he was. He had no idea how backwards it would be.

"Camille, look at me. Please," he pleaded. Camille's eyes darted around the room. Then they locked on something, or rather someone, obviously behind James.

She was suddenly brimming with tears. He thought there was probably only one thing that could make her cry at this point. So he delayed turning around as long as possible. Delayed feeling the pang that came the moment him and Logan locked eyes.

He was standing in the hallway, half shrouded in darkness. Unfortunately, this didn't hide his expression even the tiniest bit.

He felt like he should call after Camille, as he heard her say, "I have to go," and walk away. He felt like he was watching a movie. One of those dumb soap operas that him and the guys made fun of, but Carlos was secretly obsessed with. He wished he had Carlos here. And Kendall. And everyone. He wished he could try to convince them how wrong they all were, how right he had been to kiss her. Even if he himself didn't quite believe it.

He felt like a scolded puppy as he stared at the carpet. He knew how dumb he had been acting, how selfish. What right did he have to Camille? Logan loved her. That should've been all that mattered. But because of James and his stupid stuck-up attitude, he just couldn't let it go.

Logan had saw the kiss. Had stood there and let it go on without a word. Why? Why would anyone do that? Why hadn't he punched James? That would've been better than this kind of torture. The silent treatment. The one thing Logan knew he couldn't stand.

He finally heard Logan's feet move across the hard wood, then the carpet, then down the hall. James was frantic. He had to try and make it better. This could be the last chance he had.

"Logan!"

Logan did not stop.

"Logan, please! I'm sorry! You... you gotta believe me!"

He knew that sounded feeble. And cliche. And really, REALLY idiotic. But it seemed to be all he could choke out at that moment.

"_Must have been enough_," he thought, as he watched in slow motion as Logan stopped and turned around.

James felt like he had been slapped. He had NEVER seen him like this. He was actually almost crying. Logical Logan, who thought crying was inappropriate, and hated seeing other people do it. There had never been anything so important that he could fall so hard for losing it. Camille was that to him.

"_What have I done?_" James asked himself silently. One little kiss. So much darn pain.

"Sorry?" he whispered. "You do that to me... and you're sorry? Well, then I guess everything's OK now, huh." He turned to go.

"NO! Logan wait! I'm sorry! I'll do anything, ANYTHING! Tell me what to do! I'll make it right!" He felt like he was drowning. He had never intended to sound so desperate. But he knew for sure, for a fact, he really would do anything. Even if it involved giving Camille away, and crushing the feelings he had for her.

"Why would you apologize? Why would you care? This is just another victory. Another point for you. Another loss for me. Don't know why you'd wanna fix it. You never have before."

James really wasn't expecting this. What? Never cared? What the heck was he talking about? They'd been best friends since they were five. He had cared enough for more than a lifetime.

"Never cared that all the girls I've been with have, amazingly, ended up with you. Never cared that you would always take them from me! If only because you knew you could."

Logan was trembling with the force of his words. A few tears leaked out. He wiped them away frustratedly.

"And now I know you don't care what Camille meant to me. She meant more than the world, more than anything. More than anything I've ever had. She means more to me than all this. Hollywood and fame. I'd give it up for her! Do you think you could do that, James? Give up your dream?"

"No." It slipped out before he could even consider. He couldn't take it back now. He had said what he had known all along. That when it came to Hollywood and Camille, he would not pick her.

"WHY then, James? If she's not even worth a two year fad."

"Because she still means something to me! I still love her!"

"You hypocrite! So you love her, but you love fame and money more?"

James had a nasty remark biting his tongue, just wishing to lash out. Something in him cringed at those words, though. So much so, that he just couldn't retort.

"That's not love, James. That's selfishness. You want everything, and you don't want to have to work for it, or even be tied to it, if it becomes too much of a burden to you.

"So don't apologize. Because we both know you don't mean it."

And James had nothing to say that could quiet that feeling of disgust inside. Nothing to do but watch Logan walk back down the way he had come, and slam the door behind him.

**I know it's short. It's more like a bridge I guess. I needed to get this chapter taken care of. I've been procrastinating. XD But I hope the next one will be longer. But we'll have to wait and see. I don't plan this stuff out you know. It just comes to me. :P**

**Thank you for reading! And review! PLEASE review! I have seven people who put this on alert, and I believe I'm not getting that many reviews for each chapter. If you read regularly, favorited, or put it on alert, PLEASE, I'm begging you. Review. I have to hear what you guys think. And you know, the more reviews I get, the faster I update. :)**

**Ta-Ta for now.**

**~Starbucks**


	7. Chapter 7

**A little bit better. More in character for sure. Thanks to a wonderful reviewer who opened my eyes to how horribly over-dramatic this chapter was. :P  
**

**I completely rewrote this chapter. The depressed Logan thing wasn't really working for me. Or for any of you either, I think. XD So read and hopefully, enjoy!  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own BTR.**

He was accustomed to taking orders. Never the leader. He would do what you say, because he was too afraid to offer ideas of his own unless you asked him.

He was also used to running away. Because he was so convinced he could never do anything about it. So that's what he did. He took off, ran down the street. He didn't stop, didn't even breathe. Because he knew as soon as he did, the pain would rip through his body. He could feel it poised to roar up inside him, the moment he stopped to think.

Logan didn't stop to wipe the sweat running into his eyes at the humidity, didn't stop to answer the questioning glances people were constantly throwing his way. He knew what they saw. A sixteen year old boy in a tee shirt and jeans, running through the rain at the speed of light, as much as they could see of his face in the two seconds he lingered a curious blend of pain and shock. He didn't want to see the pity, the sympathy. He wanted them to laugh at him, tease him, make fun of him. At least that would be more along the lines of what he was used to. It would also give him an excuse to break a few noses.

He didn't realize he had gone in a complete circle until he was staring at the door to the Palm Woods lobby again. Three miles was never long enough. All the same, he was shaking with heat and exertion, and hadn't even stopped to remember he had drank cold milk that morning. His stomach curdled, and he felt a little pukish.

"Cold milk on a hot day...." he mumbled, then sighed. "You die."

He fought back the bile rising in his throat, and tried to force his mind blank. Thinking just made his head hurt. And every other part of him.

He strode quickly through the lobby, taking the stairs rather than the elevator. It was only two floors, and he really would rather not be asked the infinitely annoying question, "Are you OK?"

He could tell that people were awake in the apartment before he even walked in. Morning was the noisiest time of the day. He had no problem hearing Carlos and Katie having a shouting match from the end of the hall. But not really caring about anything right now, least of all the usual morning brouhaha, he ignored the noise, and walked in.

Carlos and Katie were yelling at each other from opposite ends of the swirly slide. Something about no more Lucky Charms. Kendall was shoving a bowl of the stuff into his face as fast as Logan reckoned was humanly possible.

"THEY WERE MY -" Carlos stopped his hollering as he watched Kendall put the last spoonful in his mouth. His face was so stricken, you'd have thought it was Sparky all over again.

"He ate the Charms!" Carlos yelled at Katie.

"I KNOW!" Katie yelled back.

Carlos stopped, a very confused expression on his face. He slid down, and stood unsteadily on the floor. "But if you didn't take them..... Why were you yelling at me?"

"Because it's fun. And I was winning," Katie shrugged, and looked at Carlos, ready to thrive on his reaction. Logan found he was holding his breath as well. Why? He had no idea. This exact same situation had happened before, only with Cocoa Puffs.

But Carlos didn't grate on Katie anymore. Instead, he walked up to Kendall, and grabbed the bowl from him, drinking the last of the milk at the bottom.

"Ahhhh...." he smacked his lips together, as he tipped the empty bowl over and placed it on Kendall's head. A few drops of the sugary milk rolled down the side of his face. Kendall looked horrified. But Carlos took it all in his stride, smiling smugly, and grabbing another cereal box from the table. Kendall got up slowly, grabbing the pitcher of orange juice as he rose. Slowly, slowly, he positioned himself to be ready to tip it all over Carlos at any moment. The first drop was rolling over the rim....

"Don't," Mrs. Knight said, as she walked in, not looking up from the catalog in her hand. Kendall winced, but put the pitcher down in defeat. Carlos turned around in time to see the orange juice pitcher leave his hand, and started laughing viciously.

"OH! Not quick enough, milk brain," he said happily, jumping up and down with his tongue out. After Kendall said nothing, he stopped, deciding it wasn't worth the non-existent reaction. Kendall had been waiting for this.

"At least I have a brain," he said. Carlos stopped chewing.

"Oh come on," Logan said, throwing his hands up. "That was _lame_. You don't have to react to that, Carlos."

Carlos resumed chewing thoughtfully.

"No. I don't," he got that hellish glint in his eye. Logan groaned inwardly. "But I will anyway!" He stood up and slapped Kendall on the back of the head, sending the bowl flying over the table, accidentally hitting Katie in the face. Katie then got up and threw a spoon at Carlos, who blocked it, sending it toward Logan's face. The handle hit him hard, poking him in the eye.

"Ow, ow, ow..." he hopped around clutching his eye painfully, as the three others continued to throw breakfast items at each other. Mrs. Knight sipped her coffee calmly, but she frowned when a splash of juice corroded her catalog. She looked up. Carlos was positioned nearly on top of Kendall, hitting him on the back with the empty juice pitcher with one hand, while fending off Katie with the other, who held two cereal boxes in her hands, throwing handfuls at him nearly as efficiently as a machine gun.

"STOP!" Mrs. Knight yelled. They all looked up, their arms or hands or various weapons raised, poised for attack. One death glare was enough to force them into submission. Katie moved away to her seat, dripping with juice and covered in something sticky that Logan hoped was jelly, an amused look on her face as she beheld her handiwork in the form of small welts and bruises covering Carlos' face, arms, and hands. Kendall merely shrugged, sending Carlos toppling to the floor, and continued to eat his cereal. Carlos started to eat his cereal too. From it's now scattered place on the kitchen tile. Just at that moment, James walked in. He looked around, obviously missing Logan still holding his eye in the corner. His gaze took it all in in a few seconds.

"Hey James," Carlos said through a mouthful of dry cheerios. "What's up?" He looked at Kendall satisfactorily, who was covered from head to toe in the mornings breakfast. James sighed.

"Five minutes. I'm gone for five minutes, and you guys have a food fight without me." James pulled a piece of toast off of Kendall's back, looking at it regretfully for a moment, before shrugging, and taking a bite. Katie shrieked with laughter.

"Ewwwwww. That's gross, dude! Even for you!" she said, looking at James, who merely shrugged again, and crammed the rest in his mouth. Dusting off his hands, he turned around. And froze. Logan glared at him from his corner.

"I gotta...." he cleared his throat with difficulty. "I gotta.... I'm gonna go. Now." He hurried past Logan not lifting his eyes, pulling on his sneakers as he went. Logan watched him until the door slammed.

Then he turned his eyes to the table, thinking of breakfast as his stomach rumbled noisily.

Everyone was looking at him.

"Erm." he said, before sighing. "I REALLY don't wanna talk about it."

Katie shrugged, and Carlos went back to eating his cheerios. But Kendall kept his eyes on Logan until Logan took his place at the table with two pieces of fresh, non-food-fightified toast.

"Seriously. What was that?" Kendall asked, nodding his head towards the door.

Logan squirmed uncomfortably. "Nothing." He looked down. " Nothing that matters."

Kendall resumed chewing. "That didn't look like nothing." He looked back up at Logan. Logan had a sudden impulse to cut out his tongue.

"Look, I said it was nothing. Lay off, will you?" He hadn't meant for it to sound so defensive. Maybe because he knew it wasn't nothing, and Logan had never been good at lying.

Carlos and Katie both looked at him again.

"Woah. Calm down man. It's cool-" Carlos started, getting off the floor, and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. Logan shrugged him off.

"No it's not cool, _man_. I said I don't wanna talk about it. He shouldn't have even said anything else," Logan said harshly, glaring at Kendall.

Carlos rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Well, sure, I guess." He sounded apprehensive.

Katie got up abruptly, and walked out.

"Where are you going?" Kendall called after her.

"Oh, you know. Anywhere but here." She shut the bathroom door quickly behind her.

Kendall's eyes roved back to Logan, sitting there glowering. Carlos put his hand back on his shoulder. Logan didn't try and shake it.

"What's wrong, Logan?" Kendall asked. "You and James have a fight or something?"

Logan let out a single bark of strained laughter. "Yeah. Yeah, you could say that."

"Was it about Camille?" Carlos asked quietly. Kendall and Logan both stared at him, amazed.

"How would you know that?" Logan asked accusingly.

Carlos looked at Kendall. "Well... I um..... I think...." he started moving in ten directions at once, something that Logan knew, by everything scientifically proved, was NOT possible.

"I THINK SPONGEBOB IS ON!" Carlos shouted guiltily, before finally deciding to run to the couch. Sitting down on it hard, he fumbled for the remote.

"How would you know?" Logan yelled, coming up behind him and wrestling the remote from his grasp. "Tell me!"

Carlos looked around wildly. Kendall shrugged. Mrs. Knight stared nervously. And Logan breathed heavily, choking on a bite of toast.

Finally, he sighed defeatedly. "OK. James came to me about a week ago, and claimed like, undying love for Camille and he said you were in the way but he really loved her and he wanted to tell her and he really hoped she would like him back and he felt guilty because he didn't wanna break you two up but he knew he would, like, die if he didn't tell her and I told him I couldn't help him but I told him to think about it and then do whatever he thought was right, you know? But I didn't tell him to kiss her or anything I swear I didn't! Don't kill me!" He half sobbed the last sentence.

Logan was still trying to process the jumble of words, before Kendall's exclamation woke him up. "James KISSED Camille?"

"I don't KNOW!" Carlos shouted. "I just told him he REALLY needed to think about it and not to do anything stupid and he was going to have to make a sacrifice if he didn't want to hurt YOU!" he said to Logan. "Because I knew it would! With you and Camille and everyth-"

"Wait, wait, wait, woah, HOLD UP! Logan and Camille are together? When did this happen? Why didn't I know?" Kendall sputtered.

"I thought Jo would've told you! Now SHHH!" Carlos said, slapping Kendall on the arm. Kendall muttered something about how nobody ever kept him in the loop. Logan glared at Carlos.

"You TOLD him to do what he thought was RIGHT? Why would you do that? How could you have been so impossibly idiotic?"

"I didn't know what else to say! What would you have done?"

"I would've told him to back the heck off my girl! He had NO right!"

"I told him it would hurt you, Logan. And Camille. Really, I did," Carlos pleaded. Logan scoffed.

"She didn't look too hurt to me when they were sucking face!" Logan yelled, not realizing how much it would hurt to say it out loud.

Carlos and Kendall were silent. Mrs. Knight had left the room, probably to let them work it out. But Logan couldn't even breathe, let alone defend himself. He sank onto the couch.

"He kissed her?" Carlos said quietly. Logan looked up to see an expression of shock on his face. "I didn't think.... I knew he wouldn't, or I thought he wouldn't....." Carlos muttered.

"Well, he did. What could I have done? What should I have done?" Logan buried his face in his hands.

"I don't know. I just..." Carlos sighed deeply. "I don't know."

"Wait."

Carlos and Logan both stared at Kendall.

"So, you and Camille are, like, boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Were." Logan said, wincing at the pain it caused him.

"And James kissed Camille, while you guys were STILL boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Logan nodded wearily.

Kendall looked veritably horrified. "Why?" was all he could get out.

"That's what I said." Logan was fighting back tears. "_I can't stay here. I will not break down here. I will not break down PERIOD._"

"You should get some rest or something, dude." Carlos' concerned tone of voice shocked Logan. "You look beat."

Logan almost laughed. Leave it to Carlos to state the obvious.

"Yeah, I should," he said, getting up. Surprisingly, the fact that someone thought he SHOULD sleep made him feel a whole lot better. He was sure he would've felt like he was wasting time if Carlos hadn't.

"I'm gonna go shower," Kendall muttered, still shaking his head a little.

"I'll uh...." his eyes lighted on the remote. "I'll watch Spongebob!" he said excitedly.

"Looking like that?" Logan said, gesturing to Carlos pajamas, still covered in food. "Don't you wanna shower?"

Carlos looked at him. "Do I have a choice?" he asked slowly.

"I guess." Logan shrugged.

"Then nope!" He settled deeper into the couch, making about two hundred new stains on the upholstery.

"Oh, man, is Mrs. Knight gonna kill you...."

"Nuh-uh. I tell her Kendall did it. She always believes me over Kendall."

Logan sighed, knowing it was true.

"You're mean." Logan said.

"Yeah, uh-huh. You do that." His eyes were glued to the screen as Spongebob blasted a plate with a futuristic looking World War inspired water gun, dressed in camo.

That show was so weird.

He walked down the hall into the bedroom. Kendall was bent over his dresser, pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of socks. He straightened out, and caught Logan's eye.

"Are you sleepin'?" he asked.

"Yeah. For as long as I can." Logan shrugged and walked over to his bunk, flopping himself down on the bottom, not bothering to change his sweaty clothes.

"OK. G'night." He walked towards the door and flipped off the light.

"And Logan?"

"Yeah."

"I'm really sorry."

Logan glanced at his face. He was sympathetic, but Logan didn't mind.

"Thanks."

Kendall smiled, and shut the door. Logan sighed. He couldn't avoid James forever. They slept in the same room, for crying out loud. He was gonna have to think of something to say, when they were inevitably, alone.

But right then, he didn't care much. He just drifted off, surprised by the sense of comfort that wrapped him in it's sleepy folds. He was dead to the world in a matter of minutes. Which was more than fine with him.

**This was kinda fun to write. I know the boys aren't completely in character in this one, but they're close, right?**

**Please review! I'll love you forever and ever! :D**

**~Starbucks**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8! WOOOOO! Thanks to all my faithful reviewers! And again, please, please, PLEASE! If you like the story enough to put it on alert, then take the time to review. If you read it regularly of favorited, REVIEW! I think that's more than fair.**

**This chapter was kinda fun, kinda tear-jerking for me to write. But you'll have to read for yourself to find out just how much. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own BTR.**

How could it have ever gone this wrong?

How could something so brilliant, so amazingly ethereally brilliant, have gone so horribly awry?

"Because of me. Because I was so stupid, I gambled the only thing that ever meant anything to me. For what? A few minutes of excitement? Danger?" Camille snorted as she shoved another spoon of chocolate ice cream into her mouth.

"I thought ice cream is supposed to make the pain go away," she said, sobbing a little through her full mouth. Her eyes lighted on her audience."And why am I even talking to YOU anyway? You can just go stuff yourself!"

She punched her teddy bear in the head and watched him fall off the back of the couch."Not that you aren't already..." she grumbled, scraping her spoon along the bottom of the carton.

"Aw man!" she said, frustrated. "All gone!" She dropped the empty one-quart ice cream container that had been full about two hours ago. Her stomach let out a few loud disgruntled rumbles as the last spoonfuls made their way into it's domain. She clutched at it painfully, as she felt all that satisfaction coming back up her esophagus.

"Oh man," she said through her hand, as she ran to the bathroom. She emptied the contents of that lovely one-quart container into the toilet. She heaved a few times, then focused on breathing. She hated vomiting. One of her least favorite things. She wiped her mouth, grimacing as a wave of bile stung the back of her throat. She stood up, and faced the mirror.

"You're an idiot Camille. Look at you!" she mumbled. Her hair was a mass of matted curls and tangles, her face a pale chalky white. Her nails had been chewed off. Down to the very nub. No make-up, sweats and a tee. She looked positively wrecked. She vainly tried to run a hand through her hair. It got stuck. She yanked it out with a sob.

She just cried. It was no use. She couldn't do anything to make the pain go away. No amount of chocolate ice cream or sappy chick-flicks could drown out the guilt. She didn't feel like repeating the reason for her wounded conscience. It's not like she had actually slept at all for the past week, anyway. She had thought about it long enough, keeping herself awake till 6 in the morning, when sleep only came with fitful nightmares of betrayal and rejection. Now she knew she had to try and do something about it. Try and apologize to Logan and James, make them see how difficult this was for her. Then she would have to decide.

That was the hardest part. She knew she couldn't live without Logan, but she also knew she couldn't break James' heart.

"No-one should be made to decide something like this," she said quietly.

Quite frankly, the only person she could think of who had suffered near the same torment, was Bella Swan. What, you think she DIDN'T read Twilight?

How could she have ever chosen? Who could decide? She loved them both didn't she?

"So what was different?" She had picked up the rather startling habit of talking to herself. No-one else she really wanted to talk to, after all.

Logan was the kind of guy she could imagine as a dad and husband, growing old together and loving just as much as they always had, even at the very beginning. The kind of guy who was ideal in the long run. The kind of guy she knew she would never get over.

But James was strange. He would love you one day, and break-up with you the next. But something about him... Just made her feel like she was drowning. But she didn't hate it. She actually kinda craved it.

"So what can I do? Grow old with Logan, but have have secret make-out sessions behind his back with James?" She almost laughed. No. Definitely not.

That same question had been popping up a lot lately. "What can I do? What can I do to keep the two boys I love?" Yes. Because she did love James. She had never actually said it. But now she found it was inevitable.

Then it hit her. Why... in the freaking world, would she ever be so selfish? Here she had been trying to find a way to be with BOTH, and possibly torment them with the constant threat of another guy, for the rest of their lives?

Well, not for the rest of their lives. Just for as long as they both could find it in their hearts to love her back.

This made her even more torn. So there was no chance of being with both?

"NO," she told her reflection sternly. "You have to choose."

She slapped herself on the forehead. "You have REALLY got to stop talking to a mirror Camille. It's wearing away at your sanity." She smiled at herself, as if laughing at her own joke. Then she slapped herself again.

"It's not funny!" she scolded her own smiling image. Then she frowned. "Oh, forget you!" she said angrily, stomping out of the bathroom.

She was halfway down the hall when she realized the first step to retrieving any peace of mind was to shower. Five days was WAY too long.

* * *

Half an hour later, she walked out of her room in a fresh pair of jeans and a henley, sighing as she yanked a comb through her curls.

"Well, at least I'm clean." She winced as her comb snagged on a tangle, and pulled it through gingerly. She stopped at the back of the couch. Her teddy bear was still lying face first on the floor.

She picked him up, and walked him back to her bed, setting him in an upright position, as he watched the closet untiringly. She gave him a little kiss on the nose.

"Sorry," she murmured. She looked at him fondly, before walking to her vanity.

"I suppose I should at least TRY and look decent." She pulled out foundation and mascara, applying it quickly and cleanly.

"There. Now I don't look like a zombie." She almost smiled. Almost.

A rather loud knock interrupted her musings. The front door. She looked to her teddy bear.

"Should I answer that, teddy?"

"..." The bear stared at her wisely.

"Awwww! You know I don't like people!" she pouted.

"..." Stare, stare, stare.

"Ah, fine. You win." She got up and rushed to whoever was banging on her door so loudly.

"Alright, alright! I'm COMING!" She ran the last few feet, to her door, and threw it open.

Ok. She really wasn't feeling so good now. In fact, she felt like she should be crouched over the toilet again.

"Hi," James said nervously.

Camille didn't say anything. She fought the urge to retch.

"Can... can I come in?" James asked. He was darting glances at her, then the floor, in sickeningly swift succession. Camille knew how pale she must be now. She felt really dizzy.

"Sure, if you promise to stop moving your eyes like that. Makes me feel seasick." She clutched her stomach again, as she looked away from him with difficulty. That last statement had been only slightly true. She did feel seasick, but it wasn't his eyes. It was the lack of. She wished he would just look straight at her.

James stopped. Now he just stared at the floor as he moved inside the doorway. Camille couldn't even begin to describe how awkward it was. They could both still feel each other on their lips. Could both remember each other in every breath they took. It was more than strange to her. So she said nothing, hoping he would say something before she completely broke down. Or threw up. Whichever came first.

"Camille..." he said. She heard him sigh, looked up to see him rubbing the back of his neck. He was tensing. It made her feel more nervous. And though she had wanted him to, she wished he hadn't stared her down like that.

"We need to talk," he growled.

And Camille found it hard to explain why she suddenly dissolved in laughter, why she sank to the floor shaking with giggles. James looked at her as if she had magically sprouted another appendage.

"Camille...? What the heck?" he said. He looked very confused.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry, I just... that was so predictable." She lowered her voice into her deepest, most serious manly impression. "We need to talk," she rumbled sarcastically, before chuckling a bit. James smiled weakly.

"Well, we do." He grew slightly apprehensive. "About the other day..."

Camille sobered up instantly. Why did they have to talk? Oh yeah. that suckish thing called "progress".

"Yeah..." she said slowly, trying not to remember any detail. She didn't say anything else.

"Well?" James said rather impatiently. He looked slightly annoyed. Well, what?

"Well..." Camille said searching for the thing she knew he was expecting her to say. "Well..."

"UGH! C'mon Camille! Spit it out!" James was generally angry now. But she didn't know what to say. She frowned.

"Well, what do you want me to say? This isn't exactly easy for me..." Now it was her turn to sigh, and look anywhere but at him.

James rubbed his forehead. "I guess... I'm sorry. I dunno," he said, before pausing, looking slightly thoughtful.

"I think I want you to say that it wasn't a lie. Tell me I wasn't the only one who felt the way I did. Tell me...that you meant it."

Camille looked at him. He looked like a poor lost puppy, who doesn't know what to think or where to go. And Camille knew she was never gonna forgive herself for saying this...

Suddenly through her mind flashed a certain memory. A small insignificant thing, but it was enough for her to decide. In that moment, she saw herself and Logan sitting side by side on the fire-escape, on a starry night, wrapped around each other, not saying a word. Her most precious memory. The one she knew she could never forget. The boy she knew she couldn't live without.

She tried to picture life without him. She judged it really wouldn't be a life at all. It would be miserable. Knowing she had made the wrong decision. The wrong decision. How could someone like James be the wrong decision? She loved him didn't she? Her heart didn't lie.

"_But if you choose to be with him, then you'll never be wholeheartedly in love. You'll always be thinking of Logan. You'll always be wanting him," _her mind prodded her._  
_

_And James would deserve so much more than that. He deserves more than you Camille. More than you can give him, at least."_

She took one last deep breath.

"I'm sorry, James."

He froze. Literally stopped breathing. He stood there, gaping, as if he couldn't quite comprehend what he was hearing.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

All the emotions he had been so carefully restricting came flooding out. His eyes filled with disbelief and shock, and grew slightly wet.

"Why?" he asked, looking at her sadly, so full of longing and a quickly vanishing hope.

Camille sighed and fought back a sob. "It would be cruel of me. To tell you I feel for you the way you want me to. When I know I can never love you that way. The way I love Logan." Camille didn't dare look at him. She knew she wouldn't be able to stand it. She would surely cry.

"I'm so sorry. James, please... You have to understand..."

"No. I don't understand. I don't understand how you could have felt NOTHING, when I was ready to give you everything. I can't understand why you would play me like that. I thought... Because you... You kissed me back! Why would you DO that? If you didn't care?" he rambled on, a look of confusion and hurt on his face.

"I'm sorry, so sorry." And even though she tried to stop them, tears stung the corners of her eyes. She couldn't choke back a sob of regret. For breaking someone who deserved so much more than she would ever be able to give him. He didn't move away when she hugged him, when they cried together. She felt so cruel. She knew this was the least she could do for him.

She kept whispering "I'm so sorry," as she held him tighter and tighter, willing herself to take away all the pain she had caused.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed by the time they had cried themselves out. She fell asleep, with her head on his chest, wrapped in his arms as they slept on the couch. The night passed. And morning came. The sun rose to find them curled up around each other, deep in dreams. Oddly enough they both had a peaceful expression on their faces as they dozed, and anyone who saw them might think they were in love. But only those two knew the truth of a heartbreak that threatened to destroy any friendship that still remained.

* * *

Sunlight flooded the apartment, bathing everything in a pale clear light. Breathing deeply, she smiled, as the sun warmed her eyelids and tickled her nose. Though she knew by the tears still drying on her cheeks that something painful had happened, something else had been lifted from her shoulders. She felt light and unworried. Completely at ease as she breathed deeply of cinnamon.

She cracked open her eyes.

She could hear James' breathing, and feel his arms wrapped around her protectively. Funny how a few days ago, this would have made her feel guilty. Now it felt alright. Just fine.

"Mmmmm..." she sighed contentedly. James started in his sleep, and let out a little grunt. Camille almost laughed. She doubted even nuclear warfare could wake up such a heavy sleeper. She looked up at his face. He was barely smiling, with a look of oblivious comfort. She hated to think how that expression might change the moment he woke.

"Oh, James. You really do deserve more. If only you knew how much I wanted to be able to give it to you."

**There. How was that? Good? Bad? Rushed? Way too dramatic? Let me assure you, they will NOT be this out of character in the last two chapters I'm planning on writing, for a grand total of ten! But tell me what you think! This was an epic chapter. For me anyway. Kinda ended horribly. But, I knew I wanted a scene like this. I'm pretty ok with it. Edited it a thousand times before I got it it at least decent. But, I digress.**

**Review! Tell me what I could have done better! Or just, you know, tell me it's awesome, and make my day. :)**

**~Starbucks**


	9. Chapter 9

**_(dramatic drum roll)_ Chapter 9! Second to last! :D Here we go!**

The sunshine warmed his eyelids, and flooded his closed eyes with a rosy orange light. He nestled contentedly into wherever he was laying, and took a deep breath.

_CRASH!_

James sat up, and looked around wildly. He could hear some banging from a place nearby. He scrubbed his eyes with his fists, then took another look at the unfamiliar room he had slept in. Not the apartment. Not the lobby. Oh, believe me. That had happened before. He saw a thin figure walk in front of his blurry vision, and a cup of hot coffee was held out to him.

He blinked rapidly a few times, before he registered the smell the coffee was giving off. He breathed deeply, and let his vision clear before he reached out and took it. Camille sat down across from him on an ottoman.

"Morning, sleeping beauty. You do know it's almost noon, right?" James snickered into his coffee. The age old story. If you couldn't wake James, he would sleep for a week before he decided he was going to die of hunger. He felt a remote sense of satisfaction knowing not even Camille could wake him.

"Yeah. I gathered that." He felt the hot coffee burn his throat on it's way down. "What was that crash?"

"I dropped a baking sheet. I'm making toaster waffles."

He paused. "In the oven?" James wasn't sure how safe he should feel with Camille in the kitchen.

"In the TOASTER oven! Duh!" she said, thumping him on the head. James rubbed the spot gingerly, and tried not to laugh. It really hadn't hurt. He was trying to humor her. Hey, she was making toaster waffles! Burnt or not, he figured he should try and be kind.

"What time did you wake up?" he asked.

"Around 9:30," she replied. She looked at him thoughtfully as he sipped from his mug. "Though I doubt I could have slept any longer. You snore REALLY loud."

"I do not!" James protested.

"Seriously! A few times, I thought you were choking!" She had an amused smile on her face. "You look better, though. Must have slept real well."

James thought. Yeah, he had slept pretty good. Considering his mental state. "Yeah, I guess. As well as I could on this lumpy old couch."

Camille shrugged with a defeated chuckle. "Yeah, well unless you wanna fork over a few thousand for a new one, you're just gonna have to live with it."

James smiled. "Sure. When you and I star in our multi-million film production, I'll buy you all the Federico Benini couches that'll fit into the mansion I'm getting you. And we'll go to Malibu, and be running from the paparazzi the whole time, so it'll be a relief coming back to good old Hollywood."

Camille chuckled. "Yeah. And we'll have our own fashion line. And our own film school. And we'll be the most super-mega successful superstars anyone's ever seen."

"And we'll buy a pool, and FILL it with pudding! And then I'll eat it all!"

Camille stopped. She looked at him. "You are uber weird. I don't get what it is with you guys and pudding. Every time you see a snack cup, you'd think your lifelong dream had just been made a reality."

"Pudding is delicious. It's like creamy heaven. I don't need a reason. It's a reason in and of itself."

Camille shrugged. "OK. Whatever you say."

"I'm NOT CRAZY!"

"AHA! That's what they all say!"

James tickled her till she nearly begged for relief. As punishment, you know.

"OK, enough. ENOUGH! James, I can't take it!" she choked out between shrieks of laughter. "Stop!"

He ceased, out of pity. "Now I have a weapon to use against you," he said smugly.

Camille frowned sarcastically. "But I'm not THAT ticklish."

James politely showed her that she was.

"OK!" she said breathlessly. "I'm ticklish! Just don't tell anyone."

"Why? It's cute."

"Uh-huh. Sure," she said standing up, walking smiling into the kitchen again.

"Can I shower?" James asked.

"Sure. Down the hall, first door on your right. Towels are in the closet nearest you."

"Thanks."

"Want me to get you a change of clothes?"

James considered. How would it look if Camille came to his apartment asking for a new set of clothes for him, when he had been away all night, coming from her apartment? No, that would definitely not be good. Too many questions. And WAY too many inuendos.

"Nah, I'll just change when I get home."

"Kay."

So James showered, and changed back into his old clothes, and Camille took out the waffles. Why wasn't this strange? Why didn't James feel heartbroken? The girl he loved just told him she would rather be with his best friend. That should sting pretty bad. James pondered as he flipped his hair around a little. No product or hair spray. Aw, who cared. Who was gonna notice? Or rather, who would care?

So he walked out and ate his waffles. And Camille and him talked and laughed like they were best friends, and always had been. Like nothing had ever happened.

I guess the fact of the matter was neither of them really wanted to stay mad. They had been through way too much already. James wanted to put it all behind him. He didn't want to lose Camille any further than he already had. They both knew they could never forget. There would always be that hint of regret behind every word they spoke to each other. But James loved Camille too much to lose her friendship with further persistence. So he let it be, and tried not to feel sad.

And found he was succeeding. Man, victory had never felt so awesome. Knowing what he needed to do, and actually, you know, DOING it, was better than any hockey win. And when Camille pecked him on the cheek goodbye, and when he walked away, he promised her that he would talk to Logan for her, to clear up and wash away as much as he could of the damage he had caused. Knowing Camille would still be his friend, and not completely break all ties with him, well, he felt pretty darn spectacular.

Maybe the happiness of them both, and knowing he did the right thing, could be enough.

* * *

Logan sat by the pool. He didn't care that Carlos kept doing belly flops right in front of him, drenching him with water every time. He knew he was just trying to get him annoyed enough to jump in after him and beat him up. Something to get his mind off of Camille and James. But Logan wouldn't have it. No, he WANTED to wallow in his own unbearable circumstances. So no amount of bitter pool water cascading over him could get him mad enough to jump overboard.

The sun over him was blocked suddenly, and Logan saw an all too familiar silhouette outlined in the shadow spread across the ground at his feet.

"What do you want?" Logan growled.

"I'm sorry."

"We've been over this. No amount of apology's can change what you did. What you both did."

"I'm sorry that I was dumb enough to almost wreck something like that."

Logan snorted. "What do you mean, 'almost'?"

James was silent. Then he sat down beside Logan. Logan stood up.

"Logan, please. Hear me out."

"I'm tired of listening James. Why can't you just leave me alone? Why do you gotta keep gloating?"

"I don't have anything to gloat about."

"What are you-"

"You win."

Logan was shocked into silence. But he recovered his attitude quickly.

"Nice. Really nice. Good joke. Pretty cruel. But you and I both know-"

"That Camille knows the kiss was a huge mistake. She wants to be with you."

"No. Don't say it. James if you're messing with me, I swear..."

"Logan, one kiss doesn't change what you and Camille have."

"It does when it's my best friend she was kissing."

"I don't know what else I can say! You won! She's yours! I don't think you're being very cool about this. I'm trying to give up the girl I love for you! Maybe some thanks or something?"

Logan became very aware that Carlos was staring, along with Katie, who was piggybacking on him. Along with Stephanie and one of those kids him and Kendall had babysat for awhile ago, whose name Logan could never seem to remember. They all looked apprehensive and nervous.

Logan sighed. "It's cool, guys. Just, continue."

They all went on with their chicken fight, though they weren't nearly as exuberant as before. Or as splashy.

"We're done talking. I'm sick of you, and all your dumb lies and excuses."

"Logan please, just talk to her."

Logan turned away to hide himself trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "Camille..."

"Loves you, and will forever, for as long as you'll have her."

Logan paused. "She said that?"

"Well, no. But she did say that she didn't love me the way she loves you. That she couldn't." James looked uncomfortable and really hurt, and Logan could tell he had been trying not to let it show. An awkward silence resumed between the two. What could Logan say? If James was telling the truth, his heart had just been pretty much broken. And Logan had immediately slammed him.

"OK. So I know I'm an arrogant jerk. I know I'm spoiled and I don't deserve you as a friend. But, Logan. You have to know I never meant for all this to happen. I never meant to, erm, you know, hurt you or anything. And I'm sorry. Really."

James was pleading in earnest. It meant a lot to Logan to know that James would genuinely want to fix things. Especially given things that had past.

"OK. Th- thanks, I guess."

"Yeah well, you're welcome. She was yours to begin with." He swallowed hard, and set his jaw.

Logan nodded. They stood there for a moment, before James stuck out his arm and shook Logan's hand. Not the usual, fist bumps and back slaps. But James got his message off clearly enough. Logan turned and began to walk away, the intent of seeing Camille right away fresh on his mind. He knew he didn't have to wait any more.

"And Logan."

Logan turned.

"Take good care of her. She's really beautiful and unique and everything. She has the best heart. And you're lucky to have her."

Logan smiled. "I know. Thank you, James."

James smiled back crookedly and shrugged, as he watched him walk away. He rubbed the back of his neck. This hurt. Man, did this hurt.

"_It's for the best. Really._" Keep telling yourself that James. Just keep on going.

So he lay down and let the sun soak his face, feeling, if not completely comforted, at least a little more at peace with the world.

He didn't lay there for long. Carlos splashed him quite thoroughly, and when James sat up, sputtering and blinking, Carlos smiled at him wickedly. Stephanie laughed, and James shrugged off his shirt, and jumped in. Somehow, pummeling Carlos always made him feel better.

A day of pool and sunshine, the constant companionship of Katie and Carlos, three tacos, and a violent, gory B movie. For James, the best medicine for a healing heart just trying to forget.

**I apologize if it isn't very long. This is kinda leading up to the last chapter, aka, the reunion. :) Hopefully I can do it justice. I'll try my best.**

**R&R PLEASE! xoxoxo**

**~Starbucks**


	10. Chapter 10

**So here it is. Chapter 10, aka, the conclusion. :P I guess everything that could've gone wrong with this last one did. It was jolty and really rushed, and REALLY unbelievable. It took me FOREVER to think of how best to write it, and/or to kick myself back to the mood I had when I was writing the Beginning of Forever. To write Logan/Camille like they're meant to be written. Simply, with not a lot of beating around the bush, or with minimal drama. I do like the one-shot a lot better. But I did the best I could with this, and hopefully, it makes a satisfying ending.**

If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was keeping a level head. He could focus on the problem at hand, and handle it coolly and calmly. The sensible one. Yup. That was him.

So how come his heart was beating so hard, and he felt like he needed to throw up his insides?

_"It's just nerves, buddy. You can do this. It's no problem. Just pretend... pretend... like you're just going to the pool. Except the pool is on ground floor and it's well lit and you've just come from there and it's, well, NOT here. Dang."  
_

So there went that last reserve he had been leaning so heavily on. Relying on pretending that he wasn't headed where he was headed. Anything to take his mind far away.

He tried to keep his courage up, but found it slowly slipping away. His stomach fluttered spasmodically as he rapped four times on the door of 5B, quick and loud. He breathed, in and out, in and out. He would focus on her eyes, not his feet. Not the floor. He would be smooth and suave. He would tell her about his and James' little chat, then ask to come in. And well, he would wing it from there. It usually worked for Kendall, anyway.

He tried to push his memory back to a week ago. How had he felt with her before? Happy, and completely content. Like his life couldn't get any better.

Crap, why did this have to happen? Why couldn't him and Camille have had a clean record? No cheating, no heartbreak or betrayal. Sounds dumb, and completely robotic. Ah, maybe relationships were never perfect like that. There had to be bad times, so the good times seemed all the more sweet. Interesting. He could still remember that phrase from the plaque on his kitchen wall at home.

He hummed Stuck to himself. It seemed appropriate.

"And I'm stuck, stuck, but I'm never giving up, up," he sang softly. Where was she? He was getting more jittery by the second. He knocked twice more, harder.

"In the middle of a perfect day... I'm trippin' over words to say."

He heard footsteps walking towards the door, and he stopped singing abruptly. He cleared his throat, and shook his shoulders a little.

She opened the door, and he tried to look her in the eye. He took in her face. She looked gorgeous, but what else is new? She looked really rested though, and completely at ease. He wished he could feel like that. But he took a breath, and tried not to vomit.

"Hi." He didn't mean to sound so wavery. So he cleared his throat again, and restated his greeting. "Erm, hello. I mean... I meant... hi?"

She laughed. "Yeah, hi to you too," she said. "Come in?"

"Sure," he said, his confidence slowly returning.

She stood aside, and waited for him to walk past her before she shut the door.

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring once again at all the paintings and souvenirs on the wall and bookcase. He tried to distract himself with a painting of an island oasis. But when he saw the water, he realized he had to go to the bathroom. He started dancing a little from foot to foot. He couldn't leave, not now! He would look dumb! He tried to hold it.

"_I can't HOLD IT!_" Why didn't he have to go a second ago?

"It's a pretty piece," she said from behind him. He hadn't heard her walk up.

"Oh, erm, yeah it is. Where'd you get it?" he said quickly, trying to speed things up a little. Man, did he have to go!

"Maui." She looked at him, watching his impromptu jig. "You know where the bathroom is, honey. Go ahead. I'll wait." She stepped back, and let him walk past.

"Thanks," he breathed. After he had gone, he felt a whole lot better. Partly because he had relieved himself, but partly because she had called him honey. Which made him feel a lot more brave than before. He walked back out into the living room, only to hear her voice from her room. He went up to her door, then realizing that she wasn't talking to him, he stood outside, listening through a small crack that held it open. She was obviously talking into her cell phone.

"Yes, mom. I'm OK. Really, I'm fine. Yeah, I know. No, no! Look, you can't defend me, not now. It was my fault! I still can't believe I let him. No, mom. Yes, me and James talked."

Logan perked up a bit.

"Everything is sorted out. For real, yeah. Well, I'm assuming James talked to Logan 'cause he's here right now. Just came over a minute ago. Yeah. Uh-huh."

Logan came a bit closer.

"Of course, mom. No, then you don't know me at all. I would never choose him if they're ever WERE a choice. It was one kiss. That's all. Well, of course I'm sorry! Do you think I'd be prepared to pour myself out for him if I wasn't? No, you're right. I'm sorry. I just don't wanna screw this up. He has to know it was a mistake, that I'm sorry. Yes, mom. I will. Um, my room is clean, I did the dishes a minute ago, and I just have to do a load of laundry, then I'm done. Uh-huh. Yup. I'll just have waffles. Thanks mom. Yeah. Eleven, no later! You tell him that for me. Yeah, love you too. Bye."

Logan tried to move away quickly to the bathroom door and look casual. She opened the door, and walked out her eyes lighting on him standing there.

"Finished?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He thought of something to say. But he was drowning. "I'd forgotten how clean that bathroom was." It was the first thing that entered his mind.

"A dirty bathroom is one of my mom's pet peeves. So I keep it clean for her."

"She's a lucky one. Anyone would be to have you for a daughter." That came easily. He had never been good at lying, and he wasn't lying now.

She smiled. "Yeah, she says that a lot. I'm lucky to have her too."

They stood there for a moment, not saying anything. Logan volunteered after a while.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

* * *

"Sorry. If I took awhile to answer the door. I was on the roof."

"The fire escape?"

"Uh-huh. Only just heard you coming back down. You knocked so hard."

Logan nodded and smiled a little, as him and Camille kept time with each others steps, walking up a deserted street. Which was odd considering it was rush hour, and there wasn't a car in sight. Logan could only put it to fate.

His mind drifted to the way the fire-escape must look now, in the setting sun. It had always been one of his favorite places, ever since he had discovered it one restless night when he couldn't get to sleep. The fire-escape had also always been Camille and Logan's get-away-from-everyone-else spot, where they knew they would be alone. It held some pretty precious memories. It was the place they could meet after a whole day of not being able to see each other, where they could talk and complain to each other about how lame stereotypes and nine hour work days were. Where he always knew he would feel better, as long as he was with Camille. They had slept there at least five times. Funny how in the time they'd been apart, he hadn't ventured there even once. It just hadn't seemed right when he thought she wouldn't be there.

"I haven't seen you there in awhile."

"No, I, um, haven't been able to get up there lately. I would've but you know, the album and everything."

"Yeah. How's that comin' by the way?"

"It's coming. Slowly, but still." He shrugged, not able to think of anything else to say.

"Well, that's good. What song are you working on?

"Stuck."

She smiled. "Sounds good. Will you sing it for me?"

He smiled at her, and cleared his throat. The first note came out shaky, but he grew clearer and less pitchy with every word.

"_There are so many things that I never ever get to say._

_'Cause I'm always tongue-tied with my words getting in the way._

_If you could read my mind, then all you're doubts would be left behind._

_And every little thing would be fallin' into place._

_And I would scream to the world. They would see you're my girl."_

His voice caught a bit, but he cleared it quickly with a single breath. He raised his voice to the chorus, and just let the words fill him up.

_"But I just keep getting stuck, stuck. But I'm never giving up, up._

_In the middle of a perfect day, I was trippin' over words to say._

_"Cause I don't wanna keep you guessing, but I always end up getting stuck, stuck._

_But I'm never giving up, up."_

He stopped, and looked at her. Her eyes were on his face, as if studying him while he wasn't looking. She smiled at him.

"It's really good."

Logan shrugged. "It'll sound better with all the instruments and the guys singing with me."

"Nope. You don't need any other instruments or voices or anything. You're good."

He laughed. "OK. Then I'm not bad."

"Not at all."

He could feel the sun on his face, and he looked up at it sinking steadily below the Los Angeles skyline.

"Which is better?" he asked, not taking his eyes away. "Sunset or sunrise?"

Her eyes joined his on the horizon. She thought for a moment.

"I think sunrise. Because it's a new day. A new chance. It's always been more beautiful to me."

He pondered. "Yeah I guess you're right. In which case I completely agree."

She laughed. "Smart boy."

He saw her hand swinging at her side. He wanted to hold it, but he knew he should probably wait. He was confused by what he was feeling. He hadn't said anything to her yet, but he felt like he didn't have to. So they walked another three blocks in silence.

"So..." she said finally, shrugging and smiling crookedly. "Are we good and everything? James explained it all?"

His mind unclenched, even as he realized he hadn't noticed it was clenched in the first place. "Yeah," he said. "_Say something else Logan. C'mon! Be fearless. Sweep her off her feet._"

"Good. And I'm sorry too, by the way. For everything. Just, um, thought you should hear that," she said a little shakily.

Logan nodded. "It's OK."

"Yeah," Camille scoffed. "Logan Mitchell, if you had any sense at all, you would turn around and walk away. And never ever talk to me again."

He blinked. "I thought you just said you were sorry."

"Of course I am, you dumby! But I'm just saying, no matter how much I wish it hadn't happened, it did," she said. "And now, everything is ruined. We can never be the same." She turned her head, but not before he saw her blinking rapidly.

"Camille... That's a little drastic, huh?"

One tear leaked out and splashed off the edge of her nose. "I'm horrible."

He lifted her chin, and they locked eyes. She was sniffing a little, but she wiped away the tears spilling over, and resumed a determined stance.

"Logan, you shouldn't love me. All you were was amazing to me, and I go and do THAT."

"You and James... well, James told me you didn't mean it."

"The kiss?"

Logan gulped. "Yeah."

"I didn't."

"So. What's the problem?"

"You can't just say it's OK. You should yell at me or something."

"It IS OK, Camille. You're sorry, and I'm forgiving you. And I'm not gonna yell."

A deep shudder passed over her. "Just... I can't deal with it. Just don't hate me."

"How could I possibly hate you?"

She looked away. And he knew what he should say. What he wanted to say. Or rather, what he wanted to let her know had been the case all along.

"I love you. I mean, I never stopped. If that's all you're worried about then."

She hiccuped a little, and choked out something Logan could barely register.

"But- but- b-but... I thought we would never be the same! I just wanted you to know I was sorry, I wasn't thinking that you'd say-"

He crashed his lips onto her own. It was the only thing he knew to do. He couldn't have said anything else for the life of him anyway.

Violent mood-swings. But he could deal with it.

He could taste the tears that had fallen down her cheeks, and kissed them all away. He could feel his pain and stress and confusion melting away, and all he was aware of was Camille. He could hear her heart beating inside her, and felt his own beat right along with it. He could smell her shampoo, that may have been cherry, except for the fact that now, it wasn't just plain old cherry. It was laced with something bright that cleared him up and wiped him clean, so that he felt like he'd never felt before.

She broke off, but didn't move away. She just hugged him, in the middle of the sidewalk on that deserted street. Not like he would've pictured it, but he didn't particularly care just then.

They stood there for what may have been a few days, for all the attention to time they were paying. He loosened himself finally, and looked at her. Just looked at her. The sun was directly behind her, and made her look like the angel she was to him. Then he laughed. She looked at him like he had lost his mind.

"Too much for one day? You finally lost it?" she said, smiling even as the words left her lips.

"No, no. Just you. I can't believe it. I just can't. Why would you think I wouldn't love you again? Am I THAT unreasonable?"

"You were just so sad. When I saw your face... I thought you would never forgive me. I was unfaithful. I mean, that's what happens in all the soap operas, anyway..." she mumbled, examining his shirt buttons scrupulously. He chuckled at her choice of words. Unfaithful. That was a word he never would have used. But he slipped his arm around her waist, and pulled her along walking with him, back towards the Palm Woods.

"Camille, life is not a soap opera. Besides, I'd bet my whole life that none of those TV actors were as perfect for each other as we are."

"Aw. See? You are a romantic."

"Sure. But only for you."

"AWWW!"

* * *

The sounds of the city mingled with the nearly invisible light of the stars. Invisible to everyone but the two sixteen-year-old's laying on a blanket on the roof, the music from their stereo softly pounding in the background.

"I THINK that's Orion."

"No, that's the Big Dipper."

"Same difference."

"Nope."

"Turn off the super-human genius for a second, would ya?"

Logan chuckled. Then he pointed.

"PLEASE tell me you know what that is."

"Yes, Logan. I KNOW that's the moon."

Thank the Lord for that.

"There's Sirius," he observed.

"I know that one."

"OK. Where's Uranus then?"

"I'm not an idiot, Logan. Uranus is never visible from Earth." He could practically hear her eyes rolling in her head. She moved a bit closer as a breeze drifted between them.

"You're right." He pulled his corner of the blanket around her.

In a few moments, they were quiet. Just like the beginning. They didn't need to talk. Something was buzzing though. Like an annoying fly.

"I can feel you thinking, Camille."

She sighed.

"What's on your mind?"

She fidgeted a little and played with his fingers. "We DID do alright, didn't we Logan?" She sounded so unsure.

He glanced down at her, laying next to him, their fingers laced together, legs intertwined, her head against his shoulder. He couldn't have asked for anything more than what he had right now. He felt so amazing, like he was on top of the world. But he couldn't help but think of all the damage that had been caused. He knew that poor James would take awhile to heal. He knew they didn't have a "clean" record anymore. He knew like heck there would be other problems. And no, sometimes they wouldn't come out as good as this one. But he also knew that he was gonna keep Camille close to him for the rest of his life. He would never let her go. That's what true love is, after all. Loving someone just as much as the very first day, for the whole of forever.

"Yeah. I think we did."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Yeah?"

"Camille, there will be problems. Always. As long as there is evil in this world. But I can tell you, with more truthfulness than I've PROBABLY ever told anyone before, that I love you, and I'll protect you and love you just as much as I do right now till the day I die. And that's a heck of a lot." Man, it felt good to say that. To FINALLY say that.

Her eyes didn't leave his face.

"Awwwww," she whispered. And, cue "the look".

The butterflies, the feeling, the complete and utter euphoria of it all that came with that look... As he kissed her again, he knew he would never get tired it. Any of it. Ever.

**Thanks to all who read and reviewed. This was such a great experience, and I really enjoyed writing it. The best part by far though, more than writing it or reading it myself, was seeing how you guys reacted to it, chapter by chapter. Many thanks the world over to you all. :D**

**Now, one last time, REVIEW! **

**~Starbucks**


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